An  Experimental 


Wo-o  ing  m.  £££  m^^ 


An  Experimental  Wooing 


An    Experimental 
Wooing 

BY 

TOM  HALL 

AUTHOR  OF 

"When  Hearts  are  Trumps,"   "When  Cupid  Calls," 

"The  Little  Lady,  Some  Other  People 

and  Myself,"   etc. 


NEW  YORK 

E.  R.  HERRICK  &  COMPANY 
70  FIFTH  AVENUE 


COPYRIGHT   1898 

BY 
E.  R.  HERRICK  &  COMPANY 


TO 
"THE  LITTLE  LADY 


2136100 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

I. — MAN  PROPOSES i 

II. — WOMAN  DISPOSES 12 

III. — A  REINCARNATIONIST        ....        25 

IV. — THE  HOUSE  THAT  ALEX  BUILT  ...        37 

V. — AN  EXPERIMENTAL  SERVANT  GIRL      .        .        53 

VI. — AN  EXPERIMENTAL  MEAL   ....        64 

VII.— I  SAW  WOOD 76 

VIII. — AN  EXPERIMENTAL  TRADES  UNION     .        .        87 

IX. — ALEX  SAWS  WOOD 97 

X. — A  MIDNIGHT  ALARM 106 

XL — I  MEET  A  RIVAL 117 

XII. — ALEXANDER'S  PERAMBULATOR     .        .        .125 

XIII. — MR.  HAWKINS  CALLS  AGAIN      .        .        .131 

XIV. — AN  EXPERIMENTAL  DUEL    ....       138 

XV. — AN  EXPERIMENTAL  COACHMAN  .        .       .      147 

XVI. — AN  EXPERIMENTAL  STORM         .       .        .155 

XVII. — AN  EXPERIMENTAL  SHADOW       .        .        .      163 

XVIII. — THE  END  OF  THE  EXPERIMENTS        .        .      172 


AN  EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

CHAPTER  I. 

MAN   PROPOSES. 

The  situation  was  a  very  unconventional 
one.  When  Romeo  steals  to  Juliet's  balcony 
it  is  usually  by  the  pale  light  of  the  moon, 
whereas  I  now  stood  beneath  Laura's  win- 
dow disclosed  to  view  by  the  red  signal  lights 
of  coming  morning.  I  had  just  tossed  a 
couple  of  roses,  one  red  and  one  white,  onto 
the  little  balcony  before  her  window.  I  had 
been  doing  this  every  morning  for  a  week  or 
so  and  had  heretofore  escaped  detection.  It 
was  merely  the  whim  of  a  lover.  It  delighted 
me  to  call  later  in  the  day  and  hear  her  specu- 
late as  to  which  one  of  the  young  gentlemen 
in  the  neighborhood  had  been  so  audacious. 
Of  course  she  never  suspected  me,  for  she 


2  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

never  once  spoke  of  such  a  possibility.  And 
as  to  her  aunt,  Miss  Alice  Morris,  with  whom 
she  lived,  that  dear  old  soul  could  never  guess 
that  I  loved  here  niece.  Oh,  no ! 

But  it  was  fated  that  I  was  to  be  discovered 
this  morning.  As  the  roses  struck  the  closed 
shutters  of  her  window  the  blinds  were  sud- 
denly thrown  open  and  Miss  Laura  Morris, 
in  all  the  radiance  of  her  beauty,  stepped  out. 

"  Ah,  I  have  found  you  out,"  said  she,  with 
the  pretense  of  a  frown. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered  sheepishly. 

"  And  found  you  out  rather  early  in  the 
morning,  too." 

"  Yes,"  I  assented.  "  It  is  the  early  bird 
that  catches  the  worm,  you  know." 

"  Oh !  "  said  she.  "  So  you  come  around  in 
the  early  morning  and  throw  roses  at  my  win- 
dow to  catch  worms,  do  you?  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  I  answered,  grinding  my 
cane  into  the  gravel  path.  I  am  of  that  un- 
fortunate class  of  beings  which  either  says  the 
right  thing  at  the  wrong  time  or  the  wrong 
thing  at  the  right  time — which  says  some- 
thing when  it  should  be  silent  and  is  as  silent 


MAN   PROPOSES.  3 

as  a  clam  when  it  is  necessary  for  some  one  to 
speak. 

"  There  are  people,"  she  continued  with 
great  gravity,  "  who  would  call  you  an  eaves- 
dropper." 

"  I  plead  guilty  to  being  a  rose  dropper, 
only,"  I  answered. 

"  Why — how  very  much  better  than  you 
usually  do,"  said  she. 

"  You  encourage  me,"  I  retorted  boldly, 
and  in  a  moment  my  blood  was  aflame  as  I 
realized  the  double  meaning  of  my  words. 

"  Really,  I — I  did  not  intend  to,"  she 
answered  with  a  pretty  blush.  But  recovering 
herself  with  the  dexterity  of  a  clever  woman, 
she  tried  to  turn  the  current  of  the  dialogue. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  asked,  "  which  you  think 
the  prettier?  "  And  she  held  out  the  two 
roses. 

But  I  was  not  to  be  balked  so  easily. 

"  They  are  neither,"  I  replied,  "  as  pretty 
as  you  are,  and — and  therefore  I  had  not  no- 
ticed them." 

She  blushed  again  and  turned  her  head 
away  for  a  moment,  ostensibly  to  look  at  the 


4  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

purple  Rockaway  Hills  in  the  distance.  By 
this  I  knew  I  was  not  losing  my  battle.  After 
all,  I  reasoned,  she  must  at  least  suspect  that 
I  love  her.  The  whole  village  of  Wheatfield 
knew  it.  The  local  tobacconist  had  told  me 
so  the  previous  evening  on  an  occasion  of 
familiar — too  familiar — conversation.  He 
also  said  that  Wheatfield  was  unanimously 
and  enthusiastically  in  my  favor.  Why  this 
should  be  I  do  not  pretend  to  know.  I  was 
not  rich,  although  the  Lord,  the  lawyers,  and 
my  relatives  had  left  me  a  sufficient  income 
to  maintain  me  in  comfort:  I  was  not  good 
looking.  Some  one  once  said  that  clocks 
stopped  at  my  approach.  Even  my  little  alarm 
clock  would  stop  ringing  when  I  awoke  and 
looked  at  it.  Had  I  not  been  well  aware  of 
my  lack  of  comeliness  it  would  have  been  a 
very  alarming  clock  indeed,  and  I  would  have 
been  compelled  to  part  with  it.  That  I  should 
have  disliked  to  do,  for  I  thought  a  great  deal 
of  my  little  ninety-eight-cent  clock.  It 
seemed  to  wind  me  up  in  the  morning  just  as 
I  wound  it  up  at  night — which  is  what  one 
might  call  reciprocal  perpetual  motion — only 


MAN   PROPOSES.  5 

the  little  clock  will  wear  out  some  day  and  I 
shall  die  unless  I  break  all  previous  records. 

"  Silence  " — said  I,  to  return  to  Laura  (and 
I  would  return  to  her  though  I  were  at  the 
other  side  of  the  world) 

"  Is  just  what  does  not  give  a  cent  when 
the  minister  most  needs  it,"  she  answered 
turning  to  me  quickly. 

"  Nevertheless,"  I  answered,  "  I  shall  take 
heart." 

She  looked  at  the  blue  hills  again  before 
replying. 

"  Have  you  the  heart  to  take  heart?  "  she 
asked  softly,  at  the  end  of  her  little  medita- 
tion. 

"  That  is  for  you  to  say,"  I  answered ;  and 
in  my  turn  I  looked  wistfully  over  at  the  blue 
hills. 

We  were  both  silent  now,  but  we  were  tell- 
ing each  other  the  old,  old  story  that  creeps 
into  every  book  worth  the  reading — talking 
to  each  other  in  heart  talk,  and  what  is  more 
delightful  in  this  world  than  heart  talk  with 
the  woman  you  love.  It  is  pleasant  enough 
at  any  time.  I  have  often  enjoyed  it  with 


6  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

Laura  when  the  moon  was  thrice  golden,  or 
when  the  stars  in  the  sky  seemed  so  near  I  felt 
tempted  to  reach  out  into  space  and  pluck  a 
bunch  of  them.  But  never  was  heart  com- 
munion so  delicious  as  on  this  June  morning. 
I  did  not  need  to  tell  her  I  loved  her  in  trite, 
flat  words.  There  was  no  necessity  for  the 
time-worn  formula,  "  Will  you  marry  me?  " 

We  simply  turned  after  a  time  and  looked 
each  other  full  in  the  eyes.  Slowly  I  raised 
my  hand  to  grasp  hers  and  as  slowly  she 
leaned  over  the  railing  of  her  balcony  to  clasp 
mine  in  her  own. 

Ineffectual  effort:  the  distance  was  too 
great. 

In  dismay,  but  desperately  intent,  I  glanced 
around.  A  ladder  was  leaning  against  a  near- 
by tree  where  the  gardener  had  left  it.  A  mo- 
ment later  that  ladder  was  planted  against 
Laura's  balcony  and  I  was  climbing  it  in  fran- 
tic haste,  and  in  the  next  moment  we  two 
were  clasping  each  other  in  the  first  embrace 
of  mutual  love. 

Events  occurred  at  this  moment  with  such 
rapidity  that  it  is  all  I  can  do  to  write  them 


MAN   PROPOSES.  7 

down  with  any  show  of  accuracy.  As  I 
pressed  my  lips  to  Laura's  we  were  both 
startled  by  a  terrific  report,  and  I  felt  a  sharp, 
tingling  pain  in  my  right  leg.  The  report 
was  followed  by  the  growl  and  rush  of  a  great 
bulldog.  He  made  a  jump  for  me,  but  I 
scrambled  over  the  railing  of  the  balcony  in 
time  to  escape  him.  He  might  better  have 
reached  me  and  pulled  me  to  earth,  for  he 
accomplished  what  was  to  me  a  greater  mis- 
fortune. He  struck  plump  against  the  lad- 
der and  knocked  it  to  the  ground.  At  the 
same  time  John,  the  gardener,  rushed  around 
the  corner  with  a  smoking  shotgun  in  his 
hands,  while  from  the  other  end  of  the  house, 
Tillie,  one  of  the  maids,  made  a  sudden  dash, 
grabbed  the  ladder  and  ran  away  with  it  to  the 
barn  where  she  hid  herself  and  my  only  means 
of  escape  for  the  remainder  of  the  morning. 
At  this  moment  the  red  rim  of  the  sun  shot 
over  the  Rockaway  Hills  as  though  it  were  a 
calcium  light  worked  by  the  unfeeling  but 
deft  hands  of  a  scene  shifter.  Windows  were 
thrown  open  all  over  the  neighborhood  and 
heads  popped  out  to  see  what  the  disturbance 


8  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

was.  Early  rising  servants  ran  out  of  doors 
to  get  a  clearer  view.  Two  of  the  village  po- 
licemen ran  up  pantingly  from  opposite  direc- 
tions and  tumbled  over  each  other  trying  to 
get  their  bulky  frames  through  the  front  gate 
at  the  same  time.  Half  a  dozen  newsboys  fol- 
lowed at  their  heels.  Male  neighbors  now 
came  crowding  into  the  garden  from  all  di- 
rections to  "  help  hunt  down  the  burglar," 
as  they  supposed,  or  afterward  said  they  did. 
They  were  soon  joined  by  their  wives  and 
other  members  of  their  families,  all  more  or 
less  in  dishabille,  who  came  to  see  their  lords 
and  masters  perform  their  heroic  act.  I 
turned  to  the  window  to  escape,  but  a  light 
hand  was  laid  on  my  arm. 

"  No — no,"  whispered  Laura,  "  that — that 
is  my  room." 

"  Where's  de  burgellur? "  gasped  one  of 
the  policemen,  whom  I  happened  to  know. 

"  I  am  the  supposed  burglar,  McCarthy," 
I  answered,  with  as  much  dignity  as  I  could 
command. 

"  And  he  is  already  captured,"  added 
Laura,  with  so  much  bravery  that  I  could 


MAN   PROPOSES.  9 

have  kissed  her  before  them  all  if  she  had  been 
willing.  A  number  of  the  women  exchanged 
significant  glances.  The  men  looked  at  each 
other  and  grinned.  If  wishes  could  kill  I 
would  have  slain  the  entire  lot  then  and  there. 

But  for  a  moment  attention  was  diverted 
from  us.  There  was  a  ringing  shout  and  a 
girlish  scream  of  delight,  and  a  man  and  wom- 
an on  horseback  galloped  down  the  street, 
leaped  the  hedge  at  the  end  of  the  garden, 
rode  deftly  up  the  garden  walk,  and  drew  rein 
abruptly  in  the  center  of  the  scattering  crowd. 
It  was  Alex  Kelsey  and  his  wife — Laura's 
brother-in-law  and  sister.  Matters  were  rapid- 
ly going  from  bad  to  worse.  The  two  lived  al- 
most solely  for  the  fun  they  could  get  out  of 
life,  they  were  inveterate  practical  jokers,  and 
I  knew  what  I  had  to  expect — and  what  poor 
Laura  did. 

"  By  Jove,  an  elopement !  "  shouted  Alex. 

"  Delightful — delightful,"  screamed  his 
wife ;  "  where  is  the  rope  ladder  and  the  coach 
and  four?  " 

"  Why  didn't  you  let  us  know  about  it? 
We'd  have  furnished  the  coach  and  four." 


10  AN   EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

"  And  I  would  have  woven  the  rope  ladder 
myself.*' 

"  What  is  the  idea  anyway?  Is  this  a  Mon- 
tagu-Capulet  affair,  and  if  so,  how  did  Ro- 
meo come  to  be  caught  in  such  a  fix?  Didn't 
the  lark  pierce  the  fearful  hollow  of  his  ear — 
or  was  it  the  bulldog  and  not  the  lark?  " 

By  this  time  I  was  so  angry  I  dared  not 
speak,  and  would  have  fled  even  through 
Laura's  room  had  it  not  been  for  the  bravery 
of  that  dear  girl  who  stood  blushing  but 
otherwise  apparently  serene  with  her  arm 
locked  in  mine. 

"  We'll  turn  it  off  as  a  joke,"  she  whispered 
to  me,  and  I  have  no  doubt  she  would  have 
succeeded  had  it  not  been  for  another  event 
which  capped — yes,  night-capped,  the  climax. 

Laura's  aunt,  who,  from  the  firing  of  the 
shotgun  (as  we  afterward  learned)  had  been 
hiding  in  a  closet,  now  poked  her  night- 
capped  head  out  of  an  adjoining  window. 

"  Did  you  shoot  the  burglar,  John?  "  she 
asked  in  a  frightened  voice. 

a  No,  ma'am,"  answered  John  with  a  grin. 
"  It— it  was  Mr.  Wilson." 


MAN    PROPOSES.  II 

Slowly  and  in  dumb  amazement,  Aunt 
Alice  turned  her  head  in  our  direction.  She 
gasped,  choked,  turned  partially  purple,  and 
then  pale.  Finally  she  recovered  herself  and 
spoke. 

"  I  think  it  would  have  been  better  if  you 
had,"  she  said. 

"  He  did,  Madam,  he  did,"  I  answered, 
bowing  as  politely  as  I  could  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. 

And  then  I  fainted  in  Laura's  arms. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WOMAN  DISPOSES. 

How  fortunate  misfortunes  are !  John,  the 
gardener,  had  fired  not  wisely  but  too  well, 
and  a  couple  of  buckshot  had  lacerated  my 
leg  to  a  far  greater  extent  than  I  could  have 
imagined  from  the  pain.  I  had  fainted  from 
loss  of  blood  after  I  had  forgotten  about  the 
pain.  But  the  wound  turned  the  scale  of  sym- 
pathy and  interest  in  my  favor,  and  relieved 
Laura  from  a  position  as  disagreeable  as  could 
be  imagined.  No  one  stopped  to  ask  ques- 
tions or  hint  at  suspicious  circumstances.  On 
the  contrary  every  one  exhibited  a  sympathy 
in  my  misfortune  which  is  one  of  the  redeem- 
ing virtues  of  human  nature.  Doctors  were 
sent  for.  Tender  hands  carried  me  to 
the  guest  chamber  in  the  Morris  household 
(through  the  very  room  which  Laura  had  for- 
bidden me  to  enter),  and  as  I  was  unconscious 


WOMAN    DISPOSES.  13 

a  dozen  imaginative  persons  invented  excuses 
for  the  strange  situation  in  which  I  was  dis- 
covered. Eventually  it  was  unanimously 
agreed  that,  in  conjunction  with  John,  I  was 
on  watch  for  the  thief  who  had  been  threaten- 
ing the  Morris  home,  and  had  been  shot  by 
John  in  his  over-anxiety  to  aid  me  just  as  I 
was  about  to  engage  the  villain  in  hand-to- 
hand  combat.  John,  in  dire  distress  at  having 
wounded  and  so  nearly  killed  me,  readily  as- 
sented to  this  version  of  the  morning's  mis- 
haps, and  all  was  well. 

To  Aunt  Alice  alone  the  true  story  was  told, 
and  she  forgave  me  on  the  spot.  Alex  Kel- 
sey  and  his  wife  did  not  need  to  be  told. 
They  guessed  the  whole  affair,  and  were  de- 
lighted, as  they  usually  were  with  everything. 
I  was  not  permitted  to  leave  the  room  to 
which  I  had  been  taken  until  my  wound  was 
thoroughly  healed,  and  for  a  month  I  was  the 
happiest  of  men,  with  my  true  love  for  a 
nurse,  and  her  aunt  for  house  surgeon.  It 
was  a  merry  hospital  as  well  as  a  happy  one, 
for  Alex  and  his  wife  spent  a  good  part  of 
each  day  in  it. 


14  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

The  subject  of  an  engagement  between 
Laura  and  myself  was  not  broached  on  either 
side  until  I  was  well  along  in  my  convales- 
cence. It  then  became  a  matter  of  family 
council  to  which  I  was  invited  one  bright  June 
morning.  There  were  present  besides  myself, 
Laura,  her  aunt,  Alex  and  his  wife,  and  a  de- 
lightful gentleman  of  middle  age  who  was 
introduced  to  me  as  Mr.  Dickson.  The  re- 
lation he  had  to  the  family  I  did  not  under- 
stand, and  I  promptly  questioned  Alex  on 
the  subject. 

"  Oh,  yes,  Mr.  Dickson,"  he  answered  with 
a  laugh.  "  Why,  he's  our  uncle  that  should 
have  been." 

"  What?  "  I  gasped. 

"  That's  it,  precisely,"  said  Alex.  "  I'll  ex- 
plain it  as  soon  as  I  get  a  good  chance.  If 
you  were  not  a  mere  visitor  in  Wheatfield 
you  would  understand.  But  there  are  several 
things  you  have  to  learn,  old  fellow.  Just 
take  it  easy  and  you  will  know  all  in  time. 
There's  nothing  like  patience.  I've  never 
practiced  it  myself,  but  that's  what  I  hear." 

By  this  time  we  were  seated  in  an  irregular 


WOMAN    DISPOSES.  15 

circle  around  the  room  which  had  been  cho- 
sen for  the  meeting  (it  was  the  library),  with 
Aunt  Alice  presiding  at  the  flat-topped  desk 
and  Mr.  Dickson  at  her  left  elbow.  He  had 
been  regarding  me  for  some  time  with  great 
interest,  apparently.  Suddenly  he  turned  to 
Miss  Morris,  the  elder,  and  whispered  loudly 
enough  to  be  heard  by  all  in  the  room : 

"  My  suspicions  are  confirmed.  He  has 
many  of  the  qualifications  of  Lovelace." 

Alex  and  his  wife  began  to  titter.  Aunt 
Alice  frowned,  and  replied : 

"  William  Dickson,  we  have  not  assembled 
here  to  listen  to  your  ridiculous  theories  con- 
cerning reincarnation." 

"  But  how  advantageous  it  would  be,"  pro- 
tested Mr.  Dickson,  "  if  we  could  determine 
what  soul  occupies  the  body  of  our  manly,  if 
not  exactly  handsome,  young  friend  here. 
How  much  better  we  could  arrange  the  future, 
both  for  him  and  his  ladylove.  And  how  con- 
venient to  be  able  to  determine  his  character 
by  merely  referring  to  the  pages  of  history — 
to  be  able  to  foretell  his  actions  under  certain 
circumstances  before  the  events  occurred," 


16  AN  EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"  Nonsense,"  answered  Aunt  Alice,  sharp- 
ly. "  The  meeting  will  come  to  order  and 
listen  to  a  little  sense." 

"  Which  means,  I  suppose,"  interjected 
Alex,  "  that  I  must  do  all  the  talking." 

"  Which  means,  you  good-for-nothing  fel- 
low," answered  Aunt  Alice,  "  that  you  and 
your  equally  foolish  wife  will  keep  silent  and 
that  all  will  listen  to  me."  With  that  she  ad- 
justed her  eyeglasses,  arranged  some  papers 
which  lay  before  her  on  the  desk,  and  began. 

"  It  has  been  brought  to  my  notice,"  said 
she,  "  that  this  young  man,  Mr.  Wilson, 
wishes  to  marry  my  niece,  Laura  Morris.  As 
the  head  of  our  family,  I  have  taken  the  mat- 
ter under  careful  consideration.  To  the 
young  man's  credit  I  will  say  that  I  can  find 
nothing  in  his  character  that  is  to  his  discredit, 
and  I  learn  that  he  has  a  small  income,  suffi- 
cient at  least  to  support  her.  That  is  neither 
here  nor  there,  however,  as  she  is  more  than 
plentifully  supplied  with  this  world's  goods  in 
her  own  right.  Under  these  circumstances  I 
would,  were  I  a  younger  woman  and  less  ex- 
perienced, promptly  give  my  approval  to  the 


WOMAN   DISPOSES.  17 

engagement.  But  I  have  made  one  mistake 
in  this  direction  in  the  past,  and  do  not  pro- 
pose to  make  another." 

Here  she  looked  frowningly  at  Alex  and 
his  wife,  while  Mr.  Dickson,  stroking  his 
mustache,  said  musingly : 

"  Queen  Elizabeth  or  Catherine  of  Russia 
— I  am  positive  of  it." 

"  William  Dickson,"  said  Aunt  Alice,  turn- 
ing upon  him  almost  furiously,  "  at  the  end 
of  twenty  years  are  you  not  yet  aware  that 
this  idiocy  of  yours  has  cost  you  a  wife?  " 

"  And  you  a  husband,  Alice,"  Mr.  Dickson 
answered  gently,  "  who  at  least  is  loyal  to  his 
principles  and  beliefs." 

There  was  an  awkward  pause,  and  Aunt 
Alice  colored  visibly. 

Although  I  had  met  Laura  six  months  be- 
fore at  a  reception  in  New  York,  I  had  been 
but  a  month  in  Wheatfield,  and  was  still  a 
stranger,  almost,  to  Laura's  family.  As  may 
be  readily  imagined,  I  listened  to  the  preced- 
ing conversation  and  to  that  which  followed 
with  growing  wonder — a  wonder  which  must 
have  been  depicted  on  my  face  as  Alex  Kel- 


1 8  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

sey  and  his  wife  watched  me  with  growing 
amusement,  and  Laura  blushed  with  embar- 
rassment. 

"  I  have  made  one  mistake,"  repeated 
Aunt  Alice,  continuing.  "  I  permitted  my 
niece,  Jane  Morris,  here  present,  a  girl  of 
frivolous  mind,  to  marry  a  man,  Alexander 
Kelsey,  of  equally  frivolous  disposition.  I 
thought  the  match  a  good  one,  as  they 
seemed  to  love  each  other,  and  perhaps  still 
do.  Both  of  them  were  wealthy,  and  the 
world  lay  before  them,  with  all  its  opportu- 
nities for  usefulness.  What  have  they  done 
since  their  marriage?  Absolutely  nothing  but 
enjoy  themselves  and  waste  their  time  in  a 
continuous  round  of  unseemly  hilarity.  I 
consider  them  utter  failures.  I  believe  they 
have  given  liberally  to  the  church  and  chari- 
ties, but  what  is  that  more  than  the  mere 
signing  of  an  occasional  check.  What  manly 
traits  of  forbearance  and  courage  under  suf- 
fering have  they  shown?  What  generosity  of 
spirit  toward  the  unfortunate?  But  yesterday 
they  followed  their  hounds  right  through  the 


WOMAN    DISPOSES.  19 

grounds  of  poor  Mr.  Smythe,  who  but  last 
week  buried  his  fifth  wife " 

"  And  is  next  week  to  marry  his  sixth," 
interjected  Alex. 

"  We  only  smashed  a  couple  of  green- 
houses and  tore  up  his  rose  beds,  so  that  at 
least  he  wouldn't  have  any  roses  for  the  wed- 
ding," added  Alex's  wife,  Jane,  with  a  pout 
that  was  promptly  followed  by  a  snicker  of 
laughter. 

"  And  you  have  declined  to  pay  him  dam- 
ages," retorted  Aunt  Alice,  resentfully. 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Alex.  "  We  are  go- 
ing to  make  him  sue  us,  just  to  get  a  chance 
to  make  the  old  villain  squirm  on  the  wit- 
ness-stand. Besides  the  town  needs  excite- 
ment. It's  getting  awfully  sleepy." 

"  Huh,"  said  Aunt  Alice,  with  a  look  of 
disgust.  "  The  mistake  that  I  made  is  ap- 
parent. I  do  not  intend  to  make  such  another, 
you  may  be  sure.  I  have  therefore  decided 
upon  a  plan  which  will  enable  me  to  judge 
with  some  degree  of  accuracy  as  to  the  pro- 
priety of  this  proposed  marriage  between  my 
younger  niece  and  Mr.  Wilson." 


20  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

"  Give  us  something  new,  Auntie,"  sighed 
Alex,  dolefully. 

"  It  will  be  absolutely  original,"  replied 
Miss  Morris. 

"  How  perfectly  delightful ! "  Jane  ex- 
claimed, her  eyes  dancing  with  anticipation. 
"  Do  tell  us  what  the  plan  is." 

"  I  should  call  it  '  An  Experimental  Mar- 
riage,' "  Aunt  Alice  resumed,  "  were  that  title 
not  misleading  to  the  minds  of  persons  unfa- 
miliar with  the  real  nature  of  the  scheme.  As 
it  is,  I  call  it  '  An  Experimental  Wooing.' ' 

"  But,"  I  interrupted,  "  I — I  have  already 
wooed — and  won." 

"  Did  you  enjoy  the  wooing?  "  asked  Aunt 
Alice. 

"  It  was  perfect  bliss,"  I  answered. 

"  Then  why  not  prolong  it?  "  she  asked. 
"  Besides,  you  have  not  yet  won  my  consent. 
I  suppose  you  will  not  object  to  the  plans  I 
make  for  the  welfare  of  your  future  wife?  " 

"  N — no,"  I  stammered,  "  of  course  not." 

"  Of  course  he  won't,"  laughed  Alex. 
"  Why,  the  idea  is  simply  glorious.  Aunt 
Alice,  you  are  a  blessing  in  disguise.  I  be- 


WOMAN    DISPOSES.  21 

hold  an  unending  vista  of  fun.  It  will  save 
me  from  setting  fire  to  the  village  as  I  had 
planned." 

"  You  will  oblige  me,  Alex,"  said  Aunt 
Alice,  with  dignity,  "  by  not  bothering  me 
with  another  interruption  until  I  have  con- 
cluded." 

"  It  is  never  an  interruption  in  his  case," 
interjected  Mr.  Dickson.  "  It  is  an  eruption 
— distinctly  an  eruption." 

"  My  plan,"  continued  Aunt  Alice,  "  is  to 
build  on  the  other  side  of  the  drive  a  pretty 
but  modest  cottage.  It  is  to  be  furnished  neat- 
ly but  inexpensively,  and  in  it  these  two 
young  people  are  to  practice  housekeeping 
from  breakfast  in  the  morning  until  supper 
in  the  evening,  when  they  are  to  return  to 
their  respective  homes.  They  are  to  live  and 
pay  all  expenses  on  an  allowance  at  the  rate 
of  $1,000  a  year.  If,  at  the  end  of  the  sum- 
mer, they  are  not  tired  of  each  other,  I  shall 
put  them  to  the  test  of  a  separation,  and  if 
they  bear  that  properly,  I  will  consent  to  the 
marriage.  Laura  is  to  attend  to  the  work 
of  the  household,  assisted  by  one  servant  only. 


22  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

And  Mr.  Wilson,  on  his  part,  is  to  engage  in 
some  useful  occupation,  such  money  as  he 
earns  at  it  to  be  given  to  the  poor  of  the 
parish."  She  now  drew  forth  her  watch.  "  I 
give  you  one  minute  in  which  to  make  up  your 
minds  as  to  whether  you  will  accept  my  offer 
or  not." 

"  Accept,"  shouted  Alex. 

"  Accept,"  echoed  his  wife,  Jane. 

"  Accept,"  said  Mr.  Dickson,  gravely. 

"  Let  us  accept,"  whispered  Laura,  putting 
her  hand  gently  on  my  arm. 

And  we  did. 

"  I  am  very  much  pleased,"  said  Aunt 
Alice,  "  and  may  you  both  stand  the  test  as 
well  as  I  hope  you  will,  for  it  will  be  a  harder 
one  than  either  of  you  imagine.  I  shall  con- 
tinue to  direct  the  experiment  and  make  con- 
ditions from  time  to  time.  May  you  both 
be  as  happy  in  your  experiment  as  married 
people  ought  always  to  be  in  actual  wedded 
life,  and  so  seldom  seem  to  be."  And  I  think 
there  were  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  spoke.  She 
rose,  and  was  about  to  leave  the  room  with 


WOMAN    DISPOSES.  23 

some  show  of  emotion,  when  Alex  stopped 
her. 

"  Aunt  Alice,"  said  Alex,  in  a  voice  that 
was  wonderfully  serious,  "  you  have  always 
called  me  a  '  good-for-nothing/  and  no  doubt 
I  have  deserved  the  epithet.  But  I  would 
like  to  have  the  opportunity  to  show  you  that 
I  can  do  something,  and  that  I  will  if  you  will 
give  me  the  chance.  Let  me  build  the  house 
— the  experimental  house." 

"  Do  you  really  mean  it? "  asked  Aunt 
Alice. 

"  I  do,"  answered  Alex.  "  I  will  take  en- 
tire charge.  You  know  I  have  sufficient  in- 
telligence, and  I  will  guarantee  the  will  power 
and  the  application.  I  will  take  entire  charge 
and,  moreover,  foot  the  bills.  The  matter  shall 
not  cost  you,  or  the  turtledoves,  either,  a 
single  thought.  Let  me  do  it." 

"  You  shall,  Alex,"  answered  Aunt  Alice, 
clasping  his  hand.  And  then  she  left  the  room 
hurriedly  with  actual  tears  in  her  eyes. 

Dear  lady,  she  thought  she  had  accom- 
plished Alex's  reformation  that  morning  also. 
As  for  myself,  I  would  have  preferred  to  erect 


24  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

the  house  in  which  I  was  to  live,  at  least  half 
of  each  day,  myself.  But  my  destiny  was  ap- 
parently to  be  put  into  other  hands  than  my 
own,  and  I  made  no  remonstrance. 

"  Ned,"  said  Alex,  grasping  my  hand, 
"  you  shall  have  a  house  that  you'll  be  proud 
of." 

I  said  nothing  in  reply,  for  Mr.  Dickson 
was  muttering  to  himself,  and  I  wanted  to 
hear  what  the  singular  old  gentleman  was 
saying. 

"  Queen  Elizabeth,"  was  what  he  was  say- 
ing, "  Elizabeth  beyond  a  doubt — though 
her  nature  has  apparently  been  softened  by 
some  intermediate  life  experience." 


CHAPTER  III. 

A  REINCARNATIONIST. 

I  was  now  able  to  return  to  my  boarding- 
house,  but  it  seemed  a  dreary  enough  place 
after  my  enforced  visit  in  the  beautiful  home 
of  the  Morrises.  It  gave  me,  however,  the 
exquisite  torture  of  short  absences  from  the 
presence  of  the  woman  I  loved,  a  torture  that 
no  one  can  realize  save  those  who  have  loved 
to  the  verge  of  mental  infirmity.  When  away 
from  her  I  could  think  of  nothing  else.  When 
with  her  there  were  brief  moments  when  I 
could  bring  myself  down  to  earth  and  answer 
a  civil  question  if  it  were  easy.  I  think, 
though,  that  if  lost  in  a  great  city  I  could  have 
given  my  name  and  residence  at  a  pinch. 

This  was  doubted  by  Alex  Kelsey  and  his 
wife,  and,  as  an  experiment  in  the  matter, 
Alex  stopped  me  suddenly  one  day  as  I  was 


26  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

going  from  my  boarding-house  to  my  usual 
destination,  and  asked  me  my  name. 

"  Laura  Morris,"  I  answered  promptly ; 
whereupon  Alex  claimed  to  have  proved  his 
point.  I  did  not  admit  it.  I  argued  that  the 
name  was  mine  in  a  certain  sense.  At  any 
rate,  the  woman  who  bore  it  was  mine.  We 
nearly  had  trouble  over  the  matter,  as  Alex, 
without  my  permission,  printed  the  facts  in 
the  local  paper,  and  called  upon  the  editor 
to  decide  the  matter.  The  editor  frankly 
acknowledged  that  he  was  unable  to  render  a 
decision,  and  turned  the  question  over  to  the 
sewing  circle  of  our  most  prominent  church, 
where  it  is  still  a  matter  of  debate.  One  side 
holds  that  I  had  no  right  to  the  name  what- 
ever, that  my  claim  was  absurd  and  so  forth. 
The  other  side  holds  that,  as  she  took  my 
name  at  marriage,  I  certainly  was  entitled  to 
the  equivalent  right  to  take  her  name  before 
marriage.  Laura  holds  that  it  was  a  shame 
for  Alex  to  make  our  private  affairs  public  in 
the  way  he  did.  As  for  myself,  I  hold  Laura 
and  am  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  situation. 

Alex  and  his  wife  were  now  known  all  over 


A   REINCARNATIONIST.  27 

town  as  the  "  Utter  Failures."  People  even 
came  from  surrounding  towns  to  see  the 
couple  who  were  such  utter  failures  in  matri- 
mony that  they  were  hilariously  happy.  And 
they  were  a  sight  worth  seeing,  too.  Alex 
was  handsome,  and  his  wife  was  beautiful — 
almost  as  beautiful  as  Laura.  They  were 
blessed  with  perfect  health  and  abundant  ani- 
mal spirits,  delighted  in  each  other's  company, 
and  were  soldom  seen  separately.  They  lived 
on  a  handsome  estate  about  a  mile  from  the 
Morris  home,  but  in  full  view  of  it ;  and  it  was 
a  beautiful  sight  to  see  them  gallop  over  every 
morning  to  superintend  the  building  of  the 
house  in  which  our  domestic  experiment  was 
to  be  made.  We  were  by  this  time  known  as 
"  The  Experiments,"  and  Alex  insisted  on 
calling  the  house  the  "  Experimental  House." 
I  did  not  like  the  sound  of  this,  nor  did  I  like 
the  mystery  surrounding  its  erection. 

At  the  very  outset  he  had  made  Laura  and 
myself  promise  not  to  go  near  it  until  it  was 
completed.  Moreover,  he  had  bought  some 
immense  paulins,  which  he  had  stretched  on 
framework  built  around  the  four  sides  of  the 


28  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

structure,  completely  hiding  it  from  view. 
In  addition  to  this,  he  kept  two  watchmen 
guarding  the  building  night  and  day.  He 
then  subsidized  McCarthy,  the  policeman  on 
our  beat,  to  watch  the  watchmen.  He 
watched  McCarthy. 

Laura  and  myself  were  permitted  to  super- 
intend the  arrangement  of  the  lawn,  flower 
beds,  and  walks  exterior  to  the  house  only. 
This  we  did  with  what  I  think  was  an  exhibi- 
tion of  considerable  taste.  Nor  did  we  forget 
to  prepare  for  a  certain  amount  of  comfort. 
We  erected  an  arbor,  where  Laura  could  sit 
and  sew  or  read  without  being  the  prey  of 
inquisitive  eyes,  and  parallel  to  its  longer  side 
laid  out  a  path  of  clean  gravel,  where  I  could 
walk  and  smoke  and  yet  be  never  far  away 
from  her.  As  no  limit  of  expense  had  been  set 
as  to  the  building  we  were  to  occupy,  or  the 
grounds  adjoining,  we  did  about  as  we  pleased 
in  the  matter,  and  our  flower  beds  and  conser- 
vatory soon  rivaled  those  of  Miss  Morris  her- 
self. 

When  this  work  was  completed,  we  had 
little  to  do  but  sit  on  the  piazza,  of  the  Morris 


A  REINCARNATIONIST.  2Q 

home  and  wait  for  Alex  and  his  wife  to  com- 
plete the  "  Experimental  House,"  concerning 
which  we  knew  absolutely  nothing.  All  the 
materials  for  the  building  were  brought  to 
the  site  at  night  time,  as  was  the  furniture, 
which  completed  it  for  a  home ;  for  Alex  went 
further  than  his  contract  demanded,  and  fur- 
nished the  house  as  well  as  built  it  at  his  own 
expense. 

As  the  house  neared  completion,  Alex  and 
his  wife  found  more  and  more  time  to  sit  on 
the  piazza  with  us  and  listen  to  our  specula- 
tions concerning  their  doings.  These  they 
seemed  to  enjoy  keenly.  Aunt  Alice,  de- 
lighted with  the  useful  energy  displayed  by 
Alex,  remained  for  the  greater  part  of  each 
day  in  her  own  room  sewing  for  charitable 
purposes.  And  Mr.  Dickson  was  an  almost 
daily  visitor. 

I  was  sitting  alone  on  the  piazza  one  after- 
noon, smoking  my  pipe  and  watching  Laura 
through  the  blue  wreaths  of  smoke  as  she 
bent  over  her  flower  beds,  when  Mr.  Dickson 
called. 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  you  alone,"  he  said, 


30  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"for  I  have  long  wanted  to  have  a  talk  with 
you." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  be  at  your  service,"  I 
replied,  and  indeed  I  was,  for  he  was  the  pleas- 
antest  of  old  gentlemen,  and  I,  besides,  was 
in  a  condition  of  chronic  delight  with  every- 
thing and  everybody. 

"  Good,"  said  he.  "  I  want  to  ask  you  a 
few  questions  which  I  hope  you  will  not  con- 
sider impertinent.  Have  I  your  permission?  " 

"  You  have,"  I  answered. 

"  Good  again,"  he  continued.  "  And,  on 
my  part,  I  will  say  that  I  am  simply  making 
an  investigation  in  the  interests  of  science  on 
a  subject  which  has  been  a  lifelong  study." 

I  perceived  what  was  coming. 

"  In  the  first  place,"  he  asked,  "  have  you 
any  idea,  thought,  or  belief  of  a  previous  ex- 
istence of  your  own  soul?  " 

"  No,"  I  answered,  "  my  memory  dates 
back  to  childhood  only." 

"  But,  it  is  not  a  matter  of  memory,"  he 
went  on.  "  It  is  rather  a  matter  of  sub-con- 
scious belief." 


A   REINCARNATIONIST.  31 

"  I  have  never  given  the  matter  a  thought," 
I  replied. 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  said  he,  "  and  give 
it  serious  thought.  You  strike  me  as  being  a 
particularly  apt  subject  for  experiment." 

"  Yes,"  I  interrupted,  with  a  sigh,  "  I  seem 
to  strike  almost  every  one  as  a  subject  for 
experiment." 

"  Now,  tell  me,"  he  continued,  without 
heeding  my  remark,  "  if  you  have  any  remem- 
brance of  being  at  some  time  in  the  past  in 
prison?  " 

"  Sir !  "  I  almost  shouted. 

"  For  debt,  or  some  daredevil  piece  of  ras- 
cality," he  added,  calmly. 

I  could  have  wrung  his  neck,  but  I  re- 
strained myself,  as  I  had  no  wish  to  be  ex- 
perimented on  by  an  executioner,  and 
answered  as  calmly  as  possible,  but  very 
shortly  and  sharply: 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Have  you  any  recollection  of  writing 
verses  to  your  ladylove?  "  he  said,  making  a 
few  notes  in  a  small  book. 

Now,   how  in   the  world   could  he   have 


32  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

guessed  that  I  was  in  the  habit  of  writing,  or 
trying  to  write,  poetry  to  Laura  almost  every 
night  of  my  life?  I  hemmed,  hawed,  blushed, 
and  hesitated. 

"  Ah,  I  knew  it,  I  knew  it,"  he  cried,  exult- 
ingly.  "  Now,  think  intently,  please.  Do  you 
not  have  an  indistinct  recollection  of  having 
written  such  verses  in  prison?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  I  answered,  decidedly ;  "  in  a 
boarding-house — only  in  a  boarding-house. 
In  a  very  poor  boarding-house  at  that,  and 
I  can  assure  you  that  I  wrote  very  poor  poet- 
ry. In  fact,  I  am  certain  that  in  a  better 
boarding-house  I  could  write  better  poetry; 
and  possibly  if  I  lived  in  a  palace  I  could  write 
something  worth  while." 

"  Typical  ideas  of  a  poet,"  he  muttered 
with  delight.  "  All  poets  think  the  same. 
You  are  a  splendid  subject — splendid.  Now, 
have  you  no  remembrance  of  fighting  for  your 
honor  in  preference  to  dallying  by  the  side  of 
your  sweetheart?  " 

This  was  getting  pretty  personal,  and  it 
made  me  mad. 

"  No,  I  have  not,"  I  answered,  angrily ; 


A  REINCARNATIONIST.  33 

"  but  I  have  a  strong  impression  that  I  am 
going  to  fight  pretty  soon  for  the  preservation 
of  my  own  dignity."  And  I  got  up  angrily 
and  stamped  up  and  down  the  piazza  like  a 
war  horse  scenting  battle  from  afar. 

"  Precisely  as  I  thought,"  he  chuckled, 
"  precisely  as  I  thought.  Good  morning,  Sir 
Richard;  I  will  not  disturb  you  further  to- 
day. You  have  shown  all  the  characteristics." 

And  as  he  descended  the  steps  and  made 
his  way  to  the  gate  I  heard  him  counting  up 
my  attributes  on  his  fingers : 

"  Impetuosity  in  love,"  I  heard  him  say ; 
"  chivalrous  devotion  to  his  fair  one,  eager- 
ness to  engage  in  honorable  combat,  a  desire 
to  write  poetry,  and  a  wish  to  do  so  even  in 
a  boarding-house,  which  may  often  be  con- 
sidered equivalent  to  a  prison  in  many  ways. 

Stone  walls  do  not  a  boarding-house  make, 
Nor  iron  bars  a  bachelor  apartment." 

Alex,  coming  toward  me,  passed  him  on  the 
gravel  walk.  To  Alex  I  spoke  with  feeling. 

"  Is  that  man  crazy,  or  merely  insane?  "  I 
asked. 

"  Neither,"  answered  Alex,  with  a  burst  of 


34  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

characteristic  laughter.  "  Neither,  Sir  Rich- 
ard, or  Mr.  Lovelace,  whichever  you  prefer. 
By  the  way,  how  is  Althea  this  morning?  " 

"  I  am  beginning  to  understand,"  I  said, 
coldly,  "  why  you  say  he  is  your  uncle  who 
should  have  been." 

"  There  are  others,"  answered  Alex. 
"  He'll  be  your  uncle  who  should  have  been 
before  long,  I  hope." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  I  answered.  "  I 
thoroughly  expect  to  graduate  from  this  ex- 
periment in  a  mad-house  if  matters  keep  on 
as  they  seem  to  be  going.  But  I  don't  like 
slang." 

"  Have  you  never  parsed  the  verb  '  sling, 
slang,  slung? '  "  asked  Alex,  gravely. 

"  I  have  not,"  I  answered. 

"  Well,  begin,  old  man.  Slang  is  the  meta- 
phor, the  poetry  of  the  lower  classes,  and  has  a 
beauty  of  its  own." 

"  Which  I  do  not  appreciate,"  said  I. 

"  But  you  should  appreciate  Mr.  Dickson," 
he  continued,  "  for  he  is  by  all  odds  the  most 
delightful  character  to  be  found  in  a  day's 
journey.  This  reincarnation  idea  of  his  is  a 


A  REINCARNATIONIST.  35 

pure  hobby.  Moreover,  he  clings  to  it,  in 
my  belief,  out  of  sheer  obstinacy.  In  his 
youth,  my  dear  fellow,  he  was  the  beau  of  half 
the  State,  just  as  Aunt  Alice  was  the  belle. 
He  came  from  college  with  this  absurd  idea  of 
reincarnation  in  his  head.  Before  it  was  fully 
developed  they  were  engaged,  but  when  Aunt 
Alice  discovered  that  he  one  day  considered 
her  one  person  long  dead,  and  the  next  day 
another,  she  became  more  or  less  angry,  so 
to  speak.  She  ran  a  long  gamut  of  the  il- 
lustrious dead  before  she  acted  in  the  matter. 
She  has  at  various  times  been  Mary  Queen 
of  Scots,  Elizabeth,  Penelope,  Marie  Antoi- 
nette, Catherine  of  Russia,  Joan  of  Arc,  and 
heaven  knows  what  others.  The  limit  was 
reached  when  he  hinted  that  she  might  be 
Peg  Woffington,  on  account  of  her  wit  and 
beauty,  and  she  declared  that  either  Mr. 
Dickson  must  give  up  his  hobby  or  herself. 
He  declared  that  he  would  stand  by  his  beliefs 
as  a  matter  of  principle,  and  that  she  would 
despise  him  if  he  did  not.  In  consequence, 
the  engagement  was  broken.  But  they  loved 
each  other  sincerely  and  love  each  other  now. 


36  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

Neither  has  ever  married,  as  you  know.  It 
is  my  dearest  wish  and  that  of  my  wife  that 
they  should  be  brought  together  again,  the 
strands  of  their  broken  engagement  mended, 
and  they  married  and  put  here  together  in 
this  house  to  enjoy  the  sunset  of  life,  at  least, 
after  having  missed  the  glory  of  its  morning 
and  noon.  For  some  reason  or  other  both 
Jane  and  myself  have  a  sort  of  belief  that 
through  your  agency  we  will  be  able  to  ac- 
complish this  result.  Will  you  help  us?  " 

For  answer  I  silently  clasped  his  hand  and 
gave  it  a  hearty  shake.  I  knew  that  for  once 
Alex  Kelsey  was  not  joking. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  HOUSE  THAT  ALEX   BUILT. 

The  "  Experimental  House "  was  now 
completed,  and  we  were  informed  that  it 
would  be  ready  for  occupancy  in  a  very  short 
time.  In  the  meantime  its  fame  had  gone 
abroad  through  the  nation  and  the  papers 
everywhere  contained  accounts  of  it  and  the 
proposed  experiment.  Alex,  of  course,  was 
responsible  for  this.  He  did  not  propose  to 
hide  his  light  under  a  bushel,  or  to  let  us  se- 
crete our  modest  tallow  dips  in  that  manner. 
He  even  went  so  far  as  to  advertise,  in  a 
prominent  weekly  paper  that  claimed  to  enter 
every  home  in  the  land,  and  some  that  were 
far  away,  that  he  would  erect  "  Experimen- 
tal Houses  "  at  reasonable  rates  and  on  short 
notice.  As  a  result,  every  stranger  who  came 
to  Wheatfield  made  it  a  point  to  visit  our 


38  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

neighborhood,  and  stand  on  the  sidewalk  and 
stare  at  Alex's  paulins,  much  as  a  small  boy 
does  at  the  exterior  surface  of  a  circus  tent. 
Commercial  travelers  arriving  at  the  local  ho- 
tel were  even  known  to  inquire  for  the  "  Ex- 
perimental House  "  before  they  did  for  the 
bar. 

In  the  meantime  I  had  become  a  marked 
man.     If  I  went  downtown  (which  I  did  as 
seldom  as  possible)  people  rushed  to  the  win- 
dows to  get  a  look  at  me.    As  I  went  through 
the  business  district  I  could  hear  remarks  as  I 
passed,  such  as : 
"  There  he  goes." 
"  That's  him." 

"  Looks  like  a  fool,  doesn't  he?  " 
"  What  makes  him  walk  so  wobbly?  " 
At  length,  when  the  small  boys  of  the  vil- 
lage began  to  follow  me  around,  I  gave  up  go- 
ing to  town  altogether.  Then  for  the  first  time 
I  learned  my  real  importance.     I  had  actually 
become  a  village  institution  of  some  magni- 
tude.   So  many  strangers  now  came  to  town 
to  see  me  and  spent  money,  that  business  was 
actually    improving    to    a    marked    degree. 


THE   HOUSE   THAT   ALEX    BUILT.  39 

Moreover,  I  was  giving  the  town  a  splendid 
advertisement,  and  several  "  experimental 
factories  "  were  to  be  located  in  it  by  outside 
parties  who,  had  it  not  been  for  me,  would 
probably  never  have  heard  of  the  town.  In 
addition  to  this  two  "  experimental  burglars  " 
had  made  Wheatfield  a  visit,  and  had  been 
caught  by  an  "  experimental  detective,"  who 
had  obtained  a  position  on  the  local  police 
force  thereby.  Of  all  this  I  was  informed  by 
the  Mayor,  the  Chief  of  Police,  and  a  commit- 
tee of  citizens,  who  called  upon  me  to  request 
that  I  walk  through  the  town  each  day,  assur- 
ing me  that  I  would  be  protected  from  an- 
noyance by  a  small  platoon  of  police.  I  de- 
clined. They  went  further,  and  offered  a  brass 
band  to  march  in  front  of  the  platoon  of  po- 
lice. I  declined  again.  They  offered  the  lo- 
cal fire  department  to  march  behind  the 
procession.  I  declined  once  more.  They 
ottered  a  money  consideration.  I  declined 
indignantly.  They  thereupon  played  what 
they  thought  was  their  trump  card.  They 
ottered  all  of  the  foregoing,  and  in  addition 
the  handsomest  Victoria  in  town,  to  be  drawn 


40  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

by  four  cream-white  horses,  carriage  and 
horses  to  be  elaborately  decorated  with  bride 
roses,  and  Laura  to  ride  in  the  same.  Then 
I  swore  for  the  first  time  since  I  was  vacci- 
nated, and  the  deputation  left  in  sincere  dis- 
appointment. 

In  the  meantime,  a  corset,  a  brand  of 
pickles,  a  boat,  a  book,  and  a  play  had  been 
named  "  Experimental,"  and  I  was  requested 
to  write  letters  commending  each  of  them. 
And  from  the  far  West  I  received  a  letter 
from  an  "  experimental  murderer,"  who 
wanted  me  to  ask  the  governor  of  his  State  to 
pardon  him. 

To  the  solitary  reporter  of  the  local  daily  I 
was  a  godsend.  He  interviewed  me  daily,  and 
made  a  good  "  column  and  a  turn  "  out  of 
the  few  remarks  he  could  extract  from  me 
each  day.  I  grew  tired  of  this,  and  bade  him 
never  call  again  on  pain  of  being  pitched  into 
the  street.  He  did  not  call  again,  but  he  went 
on  with  his  daily  "  column  and  a  turn  "  con- 
cerning me.  He  merely  changed  the  tenor  of 
his  remarks.  He  became  sarcastic,  and  lied 
about  me  with  a  facility  that  was  remarkable 


THE    HOUSE    THAT   ALEX    BUILT.  41 

in  one  so  young.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to 
post  daily  bulletins  concerning  my  health,  my 
temperature,  pulse,  etc. 

In  all  these  troubles  I  was  supported  by  the 
sympathy  of  Laura  and  her  aunt,  as  a  matter 
of  course.  But  it  was  all  a  matter  of  great 
joy  to  Alex  and  his  wife.  They  were  delighted 
and  assured  me  that  I  had  added  to  the  gayety 
of  nations. 

Laura  and  I  were  sitting  as  usual  on  the 
well  shaded  piazza,  of  her  aunt's  home  one 
Tune  morning  when  we  heard  the  distant 
strains  of  a  brass  band.  I  had  noticed  the  fact 
that  Alex  and  his  wife  had  not  been  around 
as  early  as  usual  that  morning,  and  I  had 
observed  that  there  was  a  suspicious  silence 
around  the  still  screened  "  Experimental 
House."  In  a  moment  an  idea  flashed  upon 
my  mind  that  made  my  heart  sink  within  me. 
The  "  Experimental  House "  was  finished, 
and  it  was  now  to  be  "  unveiled,"  as  it  were. 
Sure  enough,  as  the  strains  of  the  band  be- 
came louder  a  procession  turned  into  our  street 
with  Alex  and  his  wife  riding  in  triumph  at  its 
head.  Behind  them  followed — well,  I  can 


42  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

safely  make  a  sweeping  assertion,  and  say  the 
whole  town.  They  were  all  there,  some  two 
thousand  or  more  of  them.  The  Mayor  and 
Council  in  carriages,  the  police  department, 
the  fire  department,  the  G.  A.  R.,  and  various 
secret  societies,  the  school  children  carrying 
small  American  flags,  and  after  them  the  pop- 
ulace and  visitors  from  the  outside  world. 

We  tried  to  escape  by  hiding  in  the  house, 
but  when  the  head  of  the  procession  reached 
its  destination  and  Alex  and  his  wife  dis- 
mounted and  came  to  escort  us  to  our  "  ex- 
perimental abode  "  we  could  not  withstand 
their  appeals. 

"  Look  at  the  procession  I  have  turned  out 
in  your  honor,"  exclaimed  Alex. 

"  Come  and  see  the  house  we  have  fitted 
out  for  you  with  so  much  trouble,"  added 
Jane. 

'  You  are  ungrateful,"  said  Alex. 

'  You  are  neither  of  you  worthy  of  the 
other,"  said  his  wife,  vehemently. 

I  have  failed  to  fathom  the  exact  meaning 
of  that  statement  of  hers  up  to  the  present 
time,  but  it  seemed  then  so  strong  an  argu- 


THE   HOUSE   THAT   ALEX    BUILT.  43 

ment  that  we  yielded  and  followed  them  arm 
in  arm  to  the  front  gate  of  our  new  home.  A 
stand  had  been  erected  in  front  of  it  which 
was  already  crowded  with  prominent  persons. 
Room  had  been  saved,  however,  for  Alex,  his 
wife,  Laura,  and  myself,  and  we  were  soon 
seated  in  a  prominent  place  in  front  under 
the  quizzing  glances  of  our'  fellow-townsmen 
and  townswomen. 

The  Mayor  made  a  speech. 

Alex  made  a  speech. 

I  made  a  fool  of  myself  at  Alex's  request 
and  tried  to  make  a  speech. 

A  minister  invoked  a  blessing. 

Then,  at  a  signal,  Alex's  workmen,  each 
clad  in  a  white  duck  uniform  with  a  red  car- 
nation in  his  buttonhole,  sprang  to  their 
places,  a  blacksmith's  anvil  placed  under  the 
platform  was  discharged  with  such  a  deaf- 
ening report  that  even  the  Chief  of  Police 
fainted,  the  paulins  fell  down,  and  the  "  Ex- 
perimental House  "  stood  revealed. 

It  was  Alex's  intention  to  reveal  it  com- 
pletely inside  and  out,  and  I  afterward  had 
reason  to  thank  him  for  doing  so,  though  at 


44  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

the  time  I  could  have  sunk  through  the  earth 
to  our  antipodes,  from  sheer  mortification. 
As  for  Laura — well,  a  woman  always  goes 
through  a  trial  better  than  a  man  so  far  as  out- 
ward appearances  are  concerned,  but  I  knew 
how  she  suffered  inwardly. 

Alex,  glowing  with  delight,  now  rose  and 
made  another  short  speech. 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  you  see 
before  you  the  now  justly  celebrated  '  Experi- 
mental House.'  I  know,  and  our  family  un- 
derstands perfectly,  the  interest  you  take  in 
it  and  the  curiosity  you  have  concerning  it. 
It  is  our  purpose  to  gratify  this  curiosity  of 
yours,  now,  once  for  all.  The  house  is  open 
from  top  to  bottom,  from  front  to  rear,  and  in 
each  room  is  stationed  one  of  my  workmen 
to  see  that  no  souvenirs  are  unlawfully  taken. 
A  souvenir  will  be  provided,  however.  As 
you  leave  the  house  each  and  all  of  you  will 
be  handed  a  photograph  of  the  "  experimen- 
tal couple,"  I  may  say,  who  are  to  occupy  this 
dwelling.  I  took  the  photograph  myself,  sur- 
reptitiously I  must  acknowledge.  It  shows 
them  in  their  favorite  attitude  sitting  on  the 


THE   HOUSE   THAT   ALEX    BUILT.  4$ 

front  piazza  of  my  dear  aunt's  dwelling  with 
their  arms  around  each  other's  waists.  You 
will  have  two  hours  in  which  to  inspect  the 
house,  and  as  there  are  at  least  two  thousand 
people  to  be  accommodated,  I  desire  that  you 
will  form  single  file  and  pass  into,  through, 
and  out  of  the  house  as  quietly  and  quickly 
as  possible.  I  will  myself  escort  the  Mayor 
and  Council  of  our  fine  city  of  Wheatfield." 

Thereupon  he  turned  to  the  gentlemen 
mentioned  and  bowed.  They  rose  with  dig- 
nity, bowed,  and  started  with  him  toward  the 
house.  The  procession  formed  in  single  line 
and  followed.  Jane,  Laura,  and  myself  re- 
mained seated  on  the  platform,  Laura  and 
myself  too  crushed  to  offer  any  opposition  to 
Jane's  request  that  we  remain  there. 

Time  will  pass  if  you  don't  look  at  the  clock 
too  often,  and  at  the  end  of  what  seemed  a 
geologic  age  the  last  of  the  procession  left  the 
house  and  disappeared  down  the  street  bear- 
ing in  his  hand  that  odious  photograph  of 
Laura  and  myself.  The  workmen  were  dis- 
missed, and  Alex  returned  to  us  with  Aunt 


46  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

Alice  leaning  on  his  arm.  She  had  observed 
the  strange  proceedings  from  her  window. 

"  Let  us  first  take  a  look  around  the  out- 
side of  your  new  home,"  said  Alex,  gayly; 
and  for  the  first  time  we  took  more  than  a 
passing  glance  at  the  house.  It  looked  queer. 

"  Rather  an  unusual  looking  house,  isn't 
it  now?  "  asked  Alex. 

I  agreed  with  a  nod  of  my  head. 

"  You  see  it  is  kind  of  hind  part  before 
and  inverted,  as  it  were." 

I  nodded  again. 

"  But  it  was  built  this  way  to  make  it  sym- 
metrical with  the  rest  of  your  experiment, 
which,  I  may  say,  is  also  kind  of  inverted  and 
hind  part  before.  In  other  words,  you  are 
going  to  practice  married  life,  to  a  certain 
properly  limited  extent  before  you  are  mar- 
ried." 

"Oh,  Alex,"  sighed  Aunt  Alice,  "what 
have  you  done?  And  I  thought  you  meant 
so  well." 

"  So  I  do  mean  well,"  answered  Alex,  "  and 
so  do  you  in  your,  to  say  the  least,  bizarre  ex- 
periment with  these  young  turtledoves.  As 


THE    HOUSE   THAT   ALEX    BUILT.  47 

for  the  house,  it  is  merely  an  experiment. 
How  do  you  know  but  that  it  may  prove  to 
be  a  great  success?  Why  should  dwellings 
be  erected  always  on  the  same  plan?  Im- 
provement is  the  order  of  the  day.  If  Neces- 
sity is  the  mother  of  Invention,  Experiment  is 
its  nurse.  In  this  house  I  have  made  an  ex- 
periment, my  dear  aunt,  which  may  lead  to 
some  discovery  that  may  be  of  great  use  to 
the  world." 

Aunt  Alice  was  no  match  for  Alex  in  this 
kind  of  argument,  and  she  did  not  reply.  I 
must  say  that  Alex's  statement  of  his  side  of 
the  case  made  me  feel  rather  better  about  the 
matter,  though.  Whenever  there  is  reason  for 
a  thing  I  do  not  object  to  it,  and  Alex  ap- 
peared to  have  considerable  reason  on  his 
side. 

As  for  the  house  itself,  it  did  look  a  trifle 
bizarre.  It  was  pretty  enough,  in  a  way.  This 
I  discovered  later  by  standing  on  my  head 
and  taking  a  look  at  it.  Inverted  it  would 
have  been  a  very  pretty  cottage  in  one  of  the 
many  variations  of  the  Queen  Anne  style. 
But  the  decorations,  especially  those  consist- 


48  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

ing  of  odd  angles  and  queer  windows  were 
on  the  first  floor,  while  the  more  massive  por- 
tions, including  a  piazza,  were  on  the  top,  or 
third,  story. 

The  part  corresponding  to  the  attic 
seemed  to  be  a  mere  square  wall  painted  in 
imitation  of  stone  masonry.  The  rear  of  the 
house  faced  the  street,  while  the  front  looked 
out  upon  the  rear  lawn  and  kitchen  garden 
which  Laura  had  added  to  her  flower  beds. 
The  front  steps  were  peculiar  also.  Instead 
of  ascending  them  you  descended  them  to  en- 
ter the  house,  and  upon  doing  so  found  your- 
self not  in  the  cellar  but  in  the  attic.  This 
startling  discovery  was  made  by  each  of  us 
as  we  entered. 

"  After  such  a  crowd  has  passed  through 
our  *  Experimental  House,'  said  Alex,  with  a 
smile,  "  you  will  not  be  surprised  to  find 
things  somewhat  upside  down." 

The  house  was  in  perfect  order,  but  things 
were  upside  down  with  a  vengeance.  The 
attic  was  complete  even  to  cobwebs,  which 
Alex  had  transported  from  various  old  barns 
at  the  expense  of  much  patience.  It  was  fur- 


THE  HOUSE  THAT  ALEX   BUILT.  49 

nished  in  precisely  the  same  manner  as  the 
ordinary  attic  in  an  old  New  England  farm- 
house. There  were  old  trunks  and  old  furni- 
ture in  the  styles  of  our  ancestors.  Rusty 
stoves,  mildewed  books,  discolored  papers, 
and  worm-eaten  boxes  were  piled  up  indis- 
criminately. In  a  word,  the  furniture  of  the 
attic  was  complete,  even  to  a  string  of  corn 
and  one  of  red  peppers  hanging  from  the 
rafters,  a  bushel  or  so  of  butternuts  scattered 
about  the  floor,  and  a  low  crib  in  which  Miles 
Standish  himself  might  have  been  rocked. 
And  over  all,  Alex  had  blown  dust  with  a 
small  bellows  constructed  for  the  purpose. 

Poor  Laura  looked  so  heartbroken  that  I 
was  almost  on  the  point  of  declaring  that  I 
would  go  no  further  with  the  experiment,  but 
that  we  would  get  married  forthwith  (which 
we  could  have  done,  as  Laura  was  of  age),  and 
live  far  away  from  this  family  of  madcaps, 
if  not  mad  people.  But  to  my  amazement, 
Aunt  Alice  burst  out  in  such  exclamations  of 
delight  that  the  little  quiver  of  pain  left 
Laura's  lips  and  gave  place  to  a  sunny  smile. 

"  Oh,  Alex,"  exclaimed  Aunt  Alice,  "  this 


50  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

is  simply  delightful.  If  the  rest  of  your  '  Ex- 
perimental House '  is  on  a  par  with  this  it  is 
an  assured  success.  How  I  love  an  attic! 
And  what  a  place  to  spend  rainy  days !  The 
only  objection  to  the  old-fashioned  attic  I  ever 
had  was  that  you  had  to  climb  so  many  flights 
of  stairs,  and  often  narrow  and  shaky  ones  at 
that,  to  get  to  it.  Now  here  is  an  attic  where 
you  can  do  downstairs,  instead  of  up,  when 
it  rains,  or  you  feel  blue,  and  have  a  perfectly 
lovely  time.  And  see  the  old  letters  with  their 
faded  ink.  I  can  hardly  resist  reading  them 
now.  It  is  so  delightful  to  pry  into  the  secrets 
of  people  who  are  dead  and  who,  therefore, 
probably  do  not  object,  and  it  is  not  dishonor- 
able, like  reading  the  letters  of  people  who  are 
alive.  There  is  but  one  thing  missing  to  your 
attic,  Alex." 

"  What  is  that?  "  asked  Alex,  in  a  tone  of 
the  keenest  apprehension. 

"  Why,  down  here,  one  can  not  hear  the 
rain  on  the  roof,  or  hear  the  wind  moaning 
around  the  eaves  of  the  house  in  that  ghostly, 
melancholy  way  that  gives  one  such  a  delight- 
ful?  creepy  feeling.  And,  while  there  are 


THE   HOUSE   THAT   ALEX    BUILT.  51 

feather  beds  down  here  to  crawl  under,  I 
doubt  if  the  lightning  could  be  seen  at  all." 

"  It  can  all  be  arranged,"  said  Alex,  en- 
thusiastically. "  I  would  have  had  it  arranged 
before  but  I  did  not  think  of  it.  We  will  have 
a  phonograph  loaded  with  '  rain  on  the  roof ' 
and  another  one  loaded  with  '  moaning  of  the 
wind.'  As  for  the  lightning,  I  can  manage 
that  easily  enough  with  a  flashlight,  and  we 
can  use  stage  thunder." 

"  Splendid  !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Alice. 

"  Then,"  continued  Alex,  "  you  will  be  in- 
dependent of  real  storms.  In  fact,  you  can 
come  down  here  any  day  you  have  the  blues, 
and  have  the  j oiliest  kind  of  a  time.  I  can 
even  rig  up  a  ghost  if  you  want  one." 

"  Alex,"  said  Aunt  Alice,  "  you  are  a  dear, 
good  boy.  I  shall  most  certainly  accept  your 
kind  invitation.  Dear  me,  it  makes  me  feel 
like  a  girl  again  just  to  think  of  it.  Now,  show 
us  the  rest  of  the  house." 

The  rest  of  the  house  was  what  might  be 
imagined.  The  first  floor  consisted  of  closets, 
a  servant's  room  and  two  spare  rooms.  On 
the  second  floor  were  the  living  rooms,  while 


52  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

on  the  top  floor  were  the  parlor,  dining-room, 
pantry,  and  kitchen.  All  of  these  rooms  were 
furnished  in  the  best  of  taste,  and  this  did 
much  to  console  Laura.  Her  greatest  disap- 
pointment was  an  elevator  which  Alex  had 
built  to  cap  the  climax  of  his  joke.  Laura 
was  dismayed  at  the  thought  of  climbing  so 
many  stairs,  and  when  she  saw  the  elevator 
was  delighted.  It  was  a  trick  elevator,  how- 
ever, and  would  only  carry  people  down- 
stairs, rising  slowly  afterward  by  means  of  a 
counterweight  so  equally  adjusted  that  the 
elevator  would  carry  nothing  up.  When  Laura 
discovered  this  she  burst  into  tears,  and  for 
the  first  time  I  learned  that  women  were  made 
to  cry  easily  so  that  men  could  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  consoling  them;  and  as  I  clasped  her 
in  my  arms,  I  whispered  in  her  ear  that  I  could 
easily  arrange  the  elevator  so  that  it  would 
carry  upstairs  as  well  as  down.  And  then,  as 
she  kissed  me,  the  clouds  ceased  raining,  and 
the  sun  shone  again  from  her  eyes. 


CHAPTER  V. 

AN   EXPERIMENTAL   SERVANT  GIRL. 

I  now  began  to  feel  the  delight  of  being  the 
lord  of  a  home;  and  my  lady  Laura  felt  an 
equal  happiness.  We  spent  several  days  of 
unalloyed  joy  in  buying  provisions  for  our 
housekeeping  experiment  and  in  rearranging 
the  furniture  in  our  home.  Where  is  the 
woman  who  will  live  in  a  room,  to  say  nothing 
of  a  house,  in  which  the  furniture  is  arranged 
by  other  hands  than  her  own?  What  a  de- 
light it  is  to  any  of  them  to  take  a  chair  from 
one  side  of  the  room  and  place  it  on  the  other, 
and  notice  the  wonderful  improvement.  We 
discussed  for  hours  the  proper  position  of  a 
sofa,  and  spent  a  day  or  so  making  out  a  list 
of  groceries  to  be  purchased.  When  the  list 
was  completed,  I  went  forth  with  pride  and 
joy  in  my  heart  to  buy  them.  I  never  knew 
before  that  there  was  actual  enjoyment  in  or- 


54  AN   EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

dering  a  supply  of  coal  or  wood.  I  had  here- 
tofore been  unaware  of  the  uses  of  butcher 
shops  and  grocery  stores,  and  thought  of 
them  as  merely  disfiguring  the  streets  hide- 
ously. I  now  found  out  what  they  were  for. 
It  was  the  same  with  the  bakery,  the  tinner's, 
the  plumber's,  and  the  locksmith's.  I  even 
felt  a  distinct  pride  in  getting  up  early  one 
morning  to  arrange  with  the  milkman  for  a 
supply  of  cream  and  milk.  I  ordered  from 
him,  it  seems,  far  more  than  a  small  family 
could  use,  and  he  good-naturedly  declined  to 
let  me  have  so  much. 

"  I've  served  lots  of  young  married  people," 
he  said  to  me,  with  a  knowing  wink,  "  and 
they  always  make  that  mistake." 

All  the  world  loves  a  lover,  it  seems,  and 
when  I  ordered  the  local  daily  to  be  left  at 
our  house,  even  the  reporter  began  to  treat 
me  rather  more  kindly  in  his  daily  column 
concerning  us. 

We  were  now  brought  face  to  face  with  the 
problem  of  the  age.  Where  could  we  find  a 
servant  girl?  There  were  few  in  the  town, 
and  few  of  these  cared  to  work  just  then.  One 


AN  EXPERIMENTAL  SERVANT  GIRL.     55 

of  them  was  making  a  party  dress  for  herself, 
and  did  not  intend  to  go  to  work  again  until 
she  had  finished  it.  Another  had  a  sick 
mother,  and  thought  it  would  be  better  all 
around  for  them  to  go  to  the  county-house 
than  for  her  to  go  to  work.  Another  had 
promised  a  friend  that  she  would  make  her  a 
visit  before  she  took  another  place.  And 
still  another  declared  that  she  would  not  work 
for  such  fools  as  we  were  if  we  paid  her  a 
million  dollars  a  week.  We  were  n9t  prepared 
to  offer  her  much  more  than  a  million  a  week, 
at  least  not  enough  more  to  make  it  an  object, 
so  we  replied  that  we  would  not  have  her  if  she 
paid  us  two  million  a  week  for  the  privilege 
of  working  for  us,  and  went  our  way  with 
dignity.  The  remainder  were  of  the  descrip- 
tion we  did  not  want  under  any  circum- 
stances. After  this  we  took  a  carriage  and 
scoured  the  country  for  miles  around  without 
success.  Most  of  the  country  girls  "  didn't 
have  to  go  out  to  work,"  and  the  rheumatic 
and  poverty-stricken  head  of  one  family  of 
eleven  daughters  and  a  weak-minded  son 


56  AN   EXPERIMENTAL    WOOING. 

threatened  in  his  indignation  to  turn  his  dog 
'on  us. 

We  advertised  in  the  papers  and  appealed 
to  our  friends,  but  without  avail.  Even  Alex 
could  only  suggest  the  construction  of  an  au- 
tomatic servant  girl,  and  that  would  take  con- 
siderable time.  Jane,  his  better-half,  like  the 
trump  she  always  was,  offered  to  be  our 
servant  girl  herself,  declaring  she  was  the 
equal  of  any  domestic  in  the  country, 
could  cook,  sweep,  dust,  wash  and  iron 
clothes,  chop  kindling  wood,  and  do  fine 
sewing.  In  fact,  the  only  drawback  she 
would  acknowledge  was  the  fact  that  she 
did  not  have  a  "  character "  from  her  last 
employer.  It  was  a  generous  offer,  but 
Laura  said  it  would  never  do  to  accept  it; 
and  that  if  she  could  not  find  a  servant  girl 
she  would  do  the  work  herself.  Laura,  like 
her  sister,  was  a  trump,  and  quite  capable  of 
keeping  her  word,  but  to  this  proposition  I 
would  not  listen.  So  we  were  compelled  to 
postpone  the  actual  commencement  of  our 
housekeeping  temporarily. 

As  luck  would  have  it  the  postponement 


AN  EXPERIMENTAL  SERVANT  GIRL.     57 

was  a  short  one,  and  we  were  soon  provided 
with  a  servant  girl,  who,  we  thought,  would 
do  excellently.  We  were  sitting  on  the  front 
(in  reality,  back)  piazza,  of  our  house  one  af- 
ternoon discussing  the  situation,  when  a  very 
pretty  girl  came  up  the  street.  She  was 
plainly  but  stylishly  dressed,  with  a  finely  de- 
veloped figure,  which  spoke  of  abundant 
health  and  strength  (so  fine  a  thing  to  see  in 
a  woman);  and  walked  with  a  light,  springy 
stride  that  spoke  eloquently  of  the  ballroom, 
the  golf  links,  and  the  tennis  court.  To  our 
amazement  she  stopped  opposite  our  house, 
looked  at  the  number  which  we  had  of  course 
been  obliged  to  put  on  the  back  door,  com- 
pared it  with  some  writing  on  a  paper,  and 
then  entered  our  front  gate. 

Our  piazza.,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  on 
the  third  floor,  and  we  were  looking  down 
upon  her  though  hidden  from  her  bright 
searching  eyes,  which  were  roaming  over  the 
exterior  of  the  house. 

"  Well,  it  looks  queer,"  we  heard  her  say 
to  herself,  "  but  I  like  it,  and  first  impressions 
are  good  ones.  Now,  I  wonder  where  the 


58  AN   EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

back  door  is.  I  suppose  I  musn't  go  to  the 
front  door." 

"  A  book  agent,"  I  whispered  to  Laura, 
"  or  a  canvasser  for  something." 

"  Well,"  she  answered,  "  she  is  the  first  one 
who  has  paid  us  a  visit,  and  I  am  going  to 
treat  her  nicely  if  only  for  good  luck.'" 

Whereat  my  dear  lady  ran  to  the  elevator 
and  descended  to  the  attic.  In  a  few  moments 
she  was  back  with  her  young  lady  visitor, 
whom  she  introduced  to  me  as  Miss  Cicely 
Brown,  reading  the  name  from  a  most  cor- 
rectly engraved  card. 

It  took  but  a  glance  to  tell  that  Miss  Brown 
was  a  thoroughbred  from  the  patent  leather 
tips  of  her  shoes  to  the  plume  in  her  hat,  and 
the  bona-fide  pink  in  her  cheeks. 

"  I  have  brought  her  right  up  here,"  said 
Laura,  in  explanation,  "  because  I  thought 
you  would  like  to  share  the  pleasure  of  re- 
ceiving our  first  caller."  And  this  was  said 
as  much  in  explanation  to  the  young  lady  as 
to  myself. 

"  I  am  hardly  a  caller,"  said  Miss  Brown, 
with  a  bright  smile,  that  showed  two  rows  of 


AN  EXPERIMENTAL  SERVANT  GIRL.     59 

perfect  teeth.  "  I  called  to  see  if  you  wanted 
a  servant  girl." 

"  Indeed  we  do,"  exclaimed  Laura. 

"  If  you  can  tell  us  where  we  can  find  one," 
said  I,  "  we  will  be  under  the  sincerest  obliga- 
tions to  you." 

"  If  you  please,"  she  said,  with  perfect  com- 
posure, "  I  came  to  apply  for  the  position  my- 
self." 

There  is  an  expression  which  was  once 
much  in  vogue :  "  You  could  have  knocked 
me  down  with  a  feather."  That  exactly  ex- 
presses my  sensations  on  hearing  this  state- 
ment. As  for  Laura,  she  exclaimed : 

"  I — I  beg  your  pardon ;  I  don't  think  I 
understood  you  correctly." 

"  Yes,"  continued  Miss  Brown,  "  I  wish  to 
apply  for  the  position,  if  it  is  not  already 
filled." 

"  You  surely  do  not  mean  to  say  you  are 
a  domestic,  do  you?  "  asked  Laura. 

"  I  never  have  been  one,"  Miss  Brown 
answered,  "  but  I  hope  to  be  if  you  will  take 
me.  I  confess  that  I  have  not  had  any  expe- 
rience, but  I  am  strong  and  willing,  as  they 


60  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

say,  and  will  work  for  very  reasonable  wages 
until  I  have  become  more  useful." 

We  were  silent  with  amazement.  Miss 
Brown  understood  the  situation. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  explain  myself,"  she 
continued.  "I  have  just  graduated  from  Vas- 
sar  College,  and  find  myself  face  to  face  with 
the  world  with  my  own  living  to  make.  This 
happens  from  no  unexpected  reverse  of  for- 
tune. I  am  not  '  in  reduced  circumstances,' 
as  they  say.  In  fact,  I  have  anticipated  this 
very  condition  of  affairs  throughout  my  en- 
tire course  at  Vassar  and  am  prepared  to  meet 
it.  To  be  brief,  I  was  left  an  orphan  some  five 
years  ago,  and  with  an  exceedingly  small  in- 
heritance. For  a  long -time  I  considered  what 
would  be  the  best  investment  I  could  make 
with  my  little  patrimony,  and  concluded  that 
it  would  be  best  put  into  an  education  at  col- 
lege, for  which  I  was  already  prepared.  I 
found  that  I  had  just  enough  to  take  me 
through  Vassar  comfortably  and  in  proper 
style  for  such  a  school.  I  went  there,  grad- 
uated a  few  weeks  ago  with  more  honors  than 
I  care  to  mention  at  the  present  time,  but 


AN   EXPERIMENTAL   SERVANT   GIRL.  6 1 

with  only  forty  odd  dollars  in  my  pocketbook, 
and  none  in  my  bank.  There  were,  of  course, 
many  things  I  could  do  with  such  an  educa- 
tion as  I  have  received,  but  I  have  for  a  long 
time  been  a  student  of  the  labor  problem,  and 
especially  of  the  '  servant  girl '  question,  as 
it  is  called.  In  fact,  I  have  written  a  mono- 
graph on  the  subject,  which  has  been  pub- 
lished over  a  nom  de  plume.  I  believe  thor- 
oughly in  the  dignity  of  labor,  and  especially 
in  the  dignity  of  domestic  labor.  It  seemed 
only  right  that  I  should  practice  the  prin- 
ciples that  I  preach,  and  besides,  I  wanted 
to  experiment  in  the  matter  somewhat  also. 
A  few  days  ago  I  read  in  the  paper  about  your 
experiment  in  housekeeping,  and  I  at  once 
concluded  that  my  best  opportunity  would  be 
with  you.  My  knowledge  of  such  work  is 
theoretical  only,  but  if  you  can  be  patient  with 
me  I  am  sure  I  can  learn — I  will  try  very  hard 
— I  am  young  and  strong — and — please  re- 
member  "  she  paused  for  just  a  moment 

as  though  to  repress  the  least  bit  of  a  sob,  and 
two  little  tears  started  from  the  corners  of  her 
eyes ;  "  please  remember  that  I  am  a  lonely 


62  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

girl — that  I  want  to  be  with  people  that  I 
like— and " 

In  a  twinkling,  Laura  had  sprung  from  her 
chair  and  kissed  her. 

"  You  dear  girl,"  said  Laura,  "  you  shall  be 
our  domestic  and  our  friend,  too." 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  said  Miss  Brown,  rising 
from  her  chair  with  renewed  composure.  "  I 
am  going  to  kiss  you  now  in  turn,  just  once, 
as  a  friend,  and  then  I  am  going  to  be  your 
servant  girl  only,  and  be  treated  as  such  until 
the  experiment  is  completed." 

Saying  which  she  walked  slowly  to  Laura 
and  kissed  her. 

"  Now,"  she  continued,  "  I  will,  with  your 
permission,  go  down  to  the  depot  and  get  my 
trunk.  May  I?" 

"  Why,  of  course,"  said  Laura,  laughing  to 
find  herself  giving  her  first  orders  to  her  own 
servant.  "  Just  wait  here  until  I  have  one 
of  my  aunt's  carriages  sent  around  to  the  door 
and  you  can  drive  down  and  back." 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Brown,  "  I  would  rather 
not.  It  would  not  be  at  all  like  being  a  ser- 
vant girl.  I  will  walk  down  to  the  depot  and 


AN  EXPERIMENTAL  SERVANT  GIRL.     63 

ride  back  on  the  express  wagon  which  brings 
my  trunk,  just  as  any  other  servant  girl  would 
do." 

And  so  she  did,  to  the  amazement  of  all 
Wheatfield,  who  wondered  who  the  stunning 
girl  was  who  had  come  to  visit  the  "  Experi- 
ments," and  why  they  were  so  mean  as  not 
to  provide  her  with  a  carriage. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

AN   EXPERIMENTAL   MEAL. 

When  Cicely,  as  she  immediately  insisted 
that  we  call  her,  came  back  she  was  shown 
at  once  to  her  room,  which  was  as  prettily 
furnished  as  any  one  could  have  desired.  In 
fact,  Laura  herself  had  ideas  about  servants, 
and  believed  in  treating  them  more  than  lib- 
erally. Cicely  thought  it  altogether  too  dainti- 
ly furnished  for  a  servant,  and  would  have 
taken  some  of  the  old  furniture  from  the  attic 
had  Laura  not  laughingly  forbidden  her.  On 
the  other  hand,  Cicely  thought  it  quite  proper 
to  decorate  her  room  in  her  own  way  as  much 
as  she  pleased  (to  which,  of  course,  there  was 
not  the  slightest  objection),  and,  as  she  had 
brought  many  paintings,  photographs,  and 
some  bric-a-brac  with  her,  our  new  servant's 
room  was  soon  as  cozy  a  little  nest  as  could 
be  imagined.  It  took  her  a  wonderfully  short 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   MEAL.  65 

time  to  effect  this,  and  she  soon  appeared 
before  us  as  we  sat  again  on  our  back  piazza, 
in  a  neat  gingham  dress  and  snow-white 
apron  to  receive  orders. 

"  The  first  thing  we  must  do,"  said  Laura, 
"  is  to  arrange  about  your  wages.  In  our  ad- 
vertisements we  offered  six  dollars  a  week. 
Will  that  be  sufficient?  "  And  there  was  a 
tone  of  anxiety  in  Laura's  voice  which  made 
it  evident  that  she  was  afraid  that  she  was  not 
offering  enough. 

"  Oh,  that  is  altogether  too  much," 
answered  Cicely,  decidedly.  "  I  am  not  worth 
a  cent  more  than  two  dollars  a  week,  if  I  am 
that." 

"  You  must  let  us  be  the  judges  as  to  that," 
said  Laura. 

"  As  to  everything  except  that,"  persisted 
Cicely,  "  I  would  not  like  to  feel  that  I  was 
receiving  money  I  did  not  earn.  You  know 
I  am  pretty  well  informed  on  the  subject  of 
wages,  even  though  I  don't  know  much  about 
the  actual  work  of  a  domestic.  In  fact,  I  de- 
voted a  whole  chapter  in  my  monograph  to 
that  subject." 


66  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"  Let  me  offer  my  good  services  as  medi- 
ator," I  ventured.  "  Why  not  compromise?  " 

They  both  assented  at  once,  and  Cicely's 
wages  were  fixed  at  four  dollars  a  week. 

"  Of  course,"  Laura  now  began,  "  you 
know  you  are  not  to  sleep  in  the  house." 

"  Not  to  sleep  here?  "  asked  Cicely,  aghast. 

"  Oh,  no,"  Laura  continued.  "  I  would  be 
afraid  to  have  you.  You  would  be  here  all 
alone,  you  know — and  burglars  might  break 
in — or  anything  might  happen.  You  know 
we  all  go  to  our  homes  at  night.  We  are 
not  really  and  truly  married  people,  you 
know."  And  Laura  blushed  very  prettily. 

But  Cicely  looked  so  disappointed  that 
Laura  withdrew  her  mandate  almost  imme- 
diately. 

"  Of  course,  if  you  really  want  to  stay  here 
at  night  and  are  not  afraid "  said  she. 

"  I'm  not  a  bit  afraid,"  Cicely  answered, 
"  and  I'd  so  much  rather  stay  here." 

"  I'll  leave  my  revolver  here  with  her,"  I 
offered. 

"  Oh,  I'd  be  more  afraid  of  the  revolver 
than  I  would  of  burglars,"  laughed  Cicely. 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   MEAL.  6^ 

"  All  I  want  is  a  good  stout  club  and  if  any 
burglars  or  tramps  come  around  here  they'll 
wish  they  hadn't." 

So  it  was  arranged  that  Cicely  should  re- 
main in  the  house  at  night,  armed  with  a  club, 
which  she  soon  procured  from  the  attic. 

"  Now,"  said  she,  "  please  give  me  some 
work  to  do." 

"  Well,"  said  Laura,  "  there  is  no  time  like 
the  present.  Let  us  begin  our  housekeeping 
with  supper  to-night." 

"Hurrah!"  I  shouted. 

"  What  shall  we  have?  "  asked  Laura. 

I  was  prepared  for  the  question.  I  have  a 
favorite  meal. 

"  Chicken,"  I  answered,  "  baked  potatoes, 
baking  powder  biscuit,  and  coffee." 

A  moment  later  Laura  was  ordering  chick- 
ens by  telephone,  and  Cicely  was  starting  the 
first  fire  in  our  kitchen  range. 

The  fire  commenced  our  difficulties  of  the 
day.  It  would  not  burn,  and  in  despair  the 
two  women  came  to  me.  I  could  do  but  little 
better  than  they  at  starting  it,  and  eventually 
had  recourse  to  the  kerosene  oil  can.  The  fire 


68  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

burned  then,  and  with  such  a  vengeance  for 
a  time  that  the  blaze  streamed  out  of  the 
chimney,  and  Aunt  Alice  rushed  over  from 
her  own  house  to  tell  us  that  we  were  on 
fire.  When  she  learned  that  we  had  really 
begun  the  experiment,  and  that  there  was  no 
fire  she  was  so  delighted  that  she  went  im- 
mediately to  the  telephone  and  bade  the  "  Ut- 
ter Failures  "  come  over  and  watch  proceed- 
ings with  her.  They  came. 

All  this  was  precisely  what  we  did  not  want. 
We  expected  to  be  under  the  scrutiny  of  the 
"  Failures  "  and  Aunt  Alice  almost  continual- 
ly during  our  "  experimental  wooing,"  as  she 
called  it;  but  we  had  hoped  to  get  started 
without  their  assistance.  We  expected  a  few 
failures  at  first.  We  had  to  learn  as  all 
other  people  have  to.  And  we  did  not  care 
to  be  criticised  until  we  had  gone  through  a 
few  dress  rehearsals.  But  "  the  best  laid  eggs 
of  any  hen  gang  aft  agley,"  as  Alex  was  in  the 
habit  of  misquoting,  and  we  were  doomed  to 
disappointment.  While  Laura  and  Cicely 
were  still  poring  over  several  cook-books,  try- 
ing to  determine  how  much  "  a  little  sugar  " 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   MEAL.  69 

was,  and  what  was  "  just  enough  butter,"  and 
also  trying  to  solve  that  mystery  of  mysteries, 
"  season  to  suit  the  taste,"  I  did  my  best  to 
hold  the  enemy  in  check.  But  I  made  more 
or  less  of  a  failure  of  it.  They  invaded  the  din- 
ing-room, and  made  themselves  comfortable 
there.  Laura  came  to  my  rescue  and  endeav- 
ored to  lure  them  into  the  sitting-room,  with- 
out success,  leaving  Cicely,  author  of  a  mono- 
graph on  "  Domestic  Service  "  and  our  first 
meal  to  their  mutual  fate. 

It  was  a  fete  occasion.  The  author  of  the 
monograph  made  a  few  "  fatal  errors,"  as  the 
baseball  critics  say,  and  our  experimental  meal 
was  one  which  I  shall  never  forget. 

To  enumerate,  the  coffee  was  not  what  it 
could  have  been.  It  was  not  what  it  should 
have  been.  It  was  even  worse  than  it  might 
have  been.  Indeed,  no  one  has  yet  solved  the 
mystery  of  its  manufacture.  But  Laura  and 
myself,  eating  together  under  the  eyes  of  our 
critics,  did  not  for  a  moment  admit  that  there 
was  anything  wrong  with  the  coffee.  When 
the  aroma  was  noticed  by  Alex  and  com- 
mented upon  I  even  went  so  far  as  to  say  that 


70  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

it  was  made  after  a  Russian  recipe  which  I 
had  furnished,  and  was  simply  delicious. 

Some  slight  mistake  had  been  made  by  the 
author  of  the  monograph  in  the  manufacture 
of  the  biscuit  also.  I  believe  that  she  had 
mistaken  salt  for  baking  powder,  and,  like 
many  men,  they  had  not  risen  in  the  world 
to  the  height  they  were  capable  of  attaining. 
They  were  also  somewhat  salty.  But  they 
went  very  well  with  the  coffee.  That  was  the 
beauty  of  that  coffee,  I  think  anything  would 
have  gone  well  with  it.  Unfortunately,  Alex 
impolitely  took  one  of  the  biscuit  as  the  plate 
passed  within  his  reach,  and  tasted  it.  He 
declared  that  the  biscuits  must  have  been 
made  from  some  Hungarian  recipe  of  mine,  as 
only  very  hungry  people  could  eat  them. 

The  potatoes  were  baked  to  a  crisp,  but 
we  disguised  that  fact  by  not  eating  any,  and 
by  keeping  the  burnt  sides  down. 

There  was  no  disguising  the  chickens,  how- 
ever. As  they  entered  at  one  door  of  the  din- 
ing-room all  five  of  us  left  at  the  other.  I  held 
an  inquest  on  them  the  next  day  in  the 
back  yard  and  discovered  that  while  they  had 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   MEAL.  Jl 

been  carefully  plucked  by  the  butcher,  they 
had  not  been  cleaned  to  the  extent  that  is 
usual  among  civilized  nations.  How  the  au- 
thor of  the  monograph  ever  managed  to  cook 
them  under  the  circumstances  was  a  mystery 
until  she  acknowledged  that  she  had  used 
three  ounces  of  perfume  while  bravely  stick- 
ing to  her  post.  She  was  so  mortified, 
though,  at  her  failure  to  understand  what  was 
the  matter,  and  at  our  sudden  departure  from 
the  dining-room,  that  she  burst  into  tears 
and  ran  sobbing  downstairs. 

"  Let  the  poor  soul  cry  for  a  while,"  said 
Alex,  after  we  had  explained  what  kind  of 
a  servant  girl  we  had  acquired.  "  It  will  do 
her  good.  In  the  meantime,  I'll  order  a  few 
things  by  telephone  and  prepare  an  humble 
supper  for  you,  a  la  Alex  Kelsey. 

Be  it  fault  or  virtue,  Alex  was  a  gourmet, 
and  we  all  knew  what  one  of  his  "  humble  sup- 
pers "  was.  But  there  was  no  inclination  to 
oppose  him.  Laura  and  I  were  determined  to 
eat  that  particular  supper  in  the  "  Experi- 
mental House,"  and  it  did  not  matter  much 


72  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

to  us  whether  it  was  cooked  by  Alex  or  the 
author  of  the  monograph. 

How  easy  it  is  to  do  things  when  you  know 
how !  The  eatables  ordered  by  Alex  appeared 
as  if  by  magic,  including  a  bottle  of  sherry, 
which  was  brought  by  Mr.  Dickson,  who  was 
invited  to  the  repast  as  a  quasi  member  of  the 
family.  Alex  was  for  proceeding  at  once  with 
his  task,  but  Aunt  Alice  insisted  that  Cicely 
must  be  consoled  first  and  given  an  opportu- 
nity to  learn  something  of  the  art  of  cooking 
from  her  "  utter  failure  "  of  a  nephew-in-law. 

A  visit  to  Cicely's  room  disclosed  the  fact 
that  she  was  not  there.  In  alarm  we  made 
a  rapid  search  of  the  house,  and  even  the 
neighborhood,  without  success.  We  returned 
in  dismay  to  report  our  failure  to  our  aunt. 

"  What  fools  you  young  people  are,"  said 
she,  with  the  charming  candor  of  an  old  lady 
who  has  observed  much  of  the  world. 
"  Where  should  a  sensible  girl  go  to  cry  ex- 
cept under  those  delightful  feather  beds  down 
in  the  attic?  " 

Sure  enough,  down  in  the  attic  under  the 
feather  beds  we  found  Cicely  in  the  last  sobs 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   MEAL.  73 

of  a  good  cry.  And,  after  a  little  more  weep- 
ing, in  which  Jane  and  Laura  joined  out  of  a 
politeness  or  sympathy  which  is  peculiar  to 
women,  the  calm  came  and  was  succeeded  in 
turn  by  a  general  hilarity. 

The  hilarity  was  largely  occasioned,  of 
course,  by  Alex  and  his  wife,  who  kept  it  on 
tap,  and  were  generous  in  dispensing  it.  Alex, 
with  Cicely's  apron  around  him,  cooked  and 
told  stories  at  the  same  time  with  perfect  ease. 
Whenever  he  stopped  for  a  moment,  Jane 
rushed  to  the  piano  and  sang  a  rollicking  song 
to  her  own  accompaniment — and  her  voice 
would  have  done  credit  to  any  stage.  Laura, 
with  her  arm  around  the  waist  of  the  author  of 
the  monograph,  watched  with  the  latter  the 
expert  cooking  of  her  brother-in-law,  while 
Aunt  Alice,  Mr.  Dickson,  and  I  sat  in  the  din- 
ing-room and  observed  the  various  proceed- 
ings. 

It  was  a  humble  meal  indeed  to  which  we 
all  sat  down  in  so  short  a  time  that  it  seemed 
fairly  wonderful.  I  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table, 
of  course,  with  Cicely,  blushing  with  embar- 
rassment, but  looking  very  pretty  in  her  ging- 


74  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

ham  dress,  on  my  right,  by  direct  command  of 
Aunt  Alice.  Alex  served  the  meal,  and  sat 
when  he  got  the  chance  on  Laura's  right,  still 
attired  in  Cicely's  apron,  and  with  a  cap  on  his 
head,  which  he  had  deftly  made  out  of  a  paper 
bag. 

The  humble  meal  to  which  he  invited  us 
consisted  of  oysters  prepared  with  pure 
cream,  a  small  lump  of  butter,  celery  chopped 
fine,  and  sherry  wine,  the  whole  being  poured 
over  toast.  In  addition,  we  had  celery  salad 
a  la  Waldorf,  which  is  made,  as  I  learn  from 
Laura  and  the  author  of  the  monograph,  with 
chopped  apples  and  mayonnaise  dressing,  as 
well  as  the  main  ingredient,  celery.  We  also 
had  thin  sandwiches  of  pate  de  foie  gras,  and 
chocolate  with  whipped  cream. 

Like  all  other  good  things  in  life,  this  meal 
of  Alex's  was  most  appreciated  when  there 
was  nothing  left  of  it.  Even  the  author  of 
the  monograph  forgot  that  she  had  troubles  of 
her  own,  and  was  induced  to  join  us  in  the 
parlor,  where  we  spent  the  evening  with  a 
merry  round  of  songs,  stories,  and  recitations 
— the  latter  being  contributed  by  Cicely  with 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   MEAL.  75 

great  success.  And  during  the  earlier  part  of 
the  entertainment,  Jane  bared  her  plump  arms 
and  washed  the  dishes  before  any  one  noticed 
what  she  was  doing.  As  "  Utter  Failures," 
Alex  and  his  wife  were  not  in  my  opinion  a 
success,  but  I  did  not  dare  to  tell  Aunt  Alice 
so. 

It  was  quite  midnight  when  our  little  party 
broke  up,  and  we  went  to  our  various  homes, 
leaving  the  author  of  the  monograph  to  take 
charge  of  the  "  Experimental  House." 

I  parted  from  Laura  at  the  gate,  as  Mr. 
Dickson  left  Aunt  Alice  at  the  door  of  the 
Morris  home,  and  as  I  turned  down  the  street, 
I  heard  him  say,  distinctly : 

"  I  tell  you,  Alice,  that  I  am  convinced  that 
Alex  is  either  Lucullus  or  Vatel.  Witness  the 
meal  he  prepared  with  such  celerity." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

I  SAW  WOOD. 

We  were  now  fairly  settled  in  our  "  Experi- 
mental House,"  and  the  experiment  itself  was 
in  progress.  I  had  no  idea  I  could  be  so  happy 
under  such  strange  circumstances.  But,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  it  was  almost  like  real  house- 
keeping. For  several  days  I  did  nothing  but 
roam  around  the  house  from  one  room  to  an- 
other, watching  Laura  and  Cicely  at  their 
work,  smoking  my  pipe  and  doing  occasional 
errands. 

For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  developed 
a  streak  of  extravagance.  If  I  went  down- 
town to  buy  a  broom  I  came  back 
loaded  down  with  other  household  uten- 
sils, which  it  struck  my  fancy  would  be 
useful  to  us.  I  also  bought  various  pat- 
ent articles  advertised  in  the  magazines, 
and  which  were  guaranteed  to  make  house- 


I    SAW   WOOD.  77 

keeping  so  easy  that  a  woman  could  be  happy 
though  married.  I  bought  liberally  of  travel- 
ing hucksters,  and  felt  a  keen  regret,  when 
the  ragman  came  around  with  his  tempting 
pots  and  pans,  that  we  had  not  as  yet  accumu- 
lated any  rags.  Much  amused  at  this,  Laura 
gave  me  an  old  dress  of  hers  with  which  to 
trade.  I  got  a  wash-basin  and  two  tin  cups  for 
it,  which  I  handed  to  the  author  of  the  mon- 
ograph with  great  importance.  Then  I  scur- 
ried out  of  the  house  after  the  ragman.  I 
found  him  two  blocks  away,  and  bought  the 
dress  back  for  a  crisp  $5  bill.  Then  I  hurried 
with  the  dress  to  my  boarding-house  and  put 
it  away  tenderly  in  my  trunk.  And  from  that 
day  until  we  were  married  I  used  to  worship 
at  the  shrine  of  that  dress  every  evening  when 
I  went  home. 

There  was  but  one  thing  to  mar  our  com- 
plete enjoyment  of  our  aunt's  whim.  That 
was  the  proprietary  interest  which  she  and  the 
"  Utter  Failures  "  took  in  it.  They  were  om- 
nipresent. Laura  and  Cicely  soon  had  mat- 
ters running  as  smoothly  as  one  could  wish, 
but  Aunt  Alice  was  forever  commenting  on 


78  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

their  work  and  criticising  it.  She  had  a  dif- 
ferent way  of  doing  everything.  The  strange 
feature  of  the  matter  was  that  she  seldom 
if  ever  paid  any  attention  to  the  manage- 
ment of  her  own  house,  leaving  everything  to 
Laura  and  her  servants.  She  would  even  take 
a  broom  and  resweep  the  floors  after  Cicely 
had  finished  doing  so,  much  to  the  latter's 
mortification,  for  the  author  of  the  mono- 
graph could  sweep,  having  had  to  learn  that  in 
what  we  now  called  "  ordinary  life." 

As  for  the  "  Utter  Failures,"  we  could  usu- 
ally find  one  sitting  on  the  kitchen  table  and 
the  other  roaming  about  the  house.  We  could 
be  alone  in  peace  and  quiet  nowhere.  In  fact, 
between  the  three  of  them  I  had  little  or  no 
time  to  pay  any  of  the  ordinary  devotions  to 
Laura. 

On  one  of  the  few  occasions  when  I  found 
such  time  I  was  rudely  interrupted  by  Aunt 
Alice. 

"  Ned,"  she  asked,  "  how  much  of  your  al- 
lowance have  you  spent  so  far?  " 

I  had  to  confess  that  I  did  not  know. 


I    SAW   WOOD.  79 

"  And  when  are  you  going  to  get  to 
work?  "  she  continued. 

I  could  not  make  answer  in  this  case,  either. 
I  had  forgotten  all  about  it. 

"  You  remember  that  you  were  to  attend 
to  both  of  these  stipulations  in  the  contract?  " 

I  knew  of  no  contract,  but  I  was  well  aware 
of  the  agreement,  and  again  I  could  say  noth- 
ing. 

Laura  and  I  spent  the  remainder  of  the 
day  over  a  table  on  which  were  many  sheets  of 
paper,  and  on  the  sheets  of  paper  were  many 
figures. 

I  went  to  sleep  that  night,  as  many  another 
lord  of  a  household  has  before  me  and  will 
again,  with  the  weight  of  his  house  resting 
on  his  breast.  We  had  already  exceeded  our 
allowance  by  nearly  two  hundred  dollars,  and 
the  strictest  economy  was  necessary  to  carry 
us  through. 

Moreover,  I  must  find  work  immediately. 
And  where  should  I  find  it?  I  was  told  by 
Aunt  Alice  that  times  were  hard,  that  no  one 
was  hiring  unnecessary  assistance  in  his  busi- 


80  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

ness,  and  that  I  knew  not  one  useful  thing 
to  do. 

How  many  of  the  suffering  host  called 
"  men  "  have  gone  to  bed  with  that  weight  on 
their  breast ! 

But  morning  always  brings  relief.  Econ- 
omy can  always  be  practiced.  It  is  the  one 
thing  that  even  the  poorest  need  never  be 
without.  No  matter  how  meager  one's  in- 
come he  can  always  practice  economy — the 
source  of  wealth. 

And  as  to  work — that  must  be  found 
whether  it  could  be  or  not. 

The  next  day  I  went  forth  in  search  of  it.  I 
commenced  with  the  higher  grades  of  busi- 
ness, as  a  matter  of  course.  I  found,  however, 
that  no  bank  presidents  were  needed  at  that 
time ;  that  merchants  did  not  at  that  particular 
moment  require  a  manager  for  their  affairs; 
that  even  the  most  able  lawyers  did  not  re- 
quire a  senior  partner,  who  had  never  been 
admitted  to  the  bar;  and  that  the  most  able 
physician  in  town  could  attend  to  his  practice 
with  the  aid  of  a  couple  of  young  doctors. 

This  was  as  surprising  as  it  was  unsatisfac- 


I   SAW   WOOD.  8 1 

tory.  I  talked  the  matter  over  with  Laura, 
and  she  was  indignant. 

"  The  idea !  "  said  she.  "  As  though  you 
could  not  do  any  of  those  things  as  well  as 
any  man,  and  a  good  deal  better." 

Is  there  anything  in  the  world  more  beauti- 
fully loyal  than  the  belief  of  a  woman  in  the 
man  she  loves?  The  whole  world  may  turn 
against  him,  but  as  long  as  a  man  is  loved  by 
one  woman  he  can  be  as  happy  as  it  was  ever 
intended  man  should  be  in  the  universal 
scheme.  How  different  it  was  with  the  others ! 
Aunt  Alice,  the  "  Failures,"  and  even  Mr. 
Dickson  all  agreed  that  I  had  aimed  a  trifle 
too  high. 

The  next  day  I  aimed  lower.  I  simply  had 
to.  I  went  in  for  lower  positions.  I  even 
offered  myself  as  a  clerk  in  one  or  two  stores. 
It  was  useless.  No  one  wanted  me.  I  had 
advertised  the  town  and  brought  trade  to  it, 
but  no  one  would  give  me  work  when  I 
needed  it.  Suppose  I  had  been  starving,  or 
that  a  wife  and  family  dependent  on  me  were 
without  food  and  shelter.  The  thought  made 
me  more  serious  than  I  had  been  in  many  a 


82  AN   EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

day.  There  were  such  cases.  I  had  read  of 
them  in  the  papers  in  a  desultory  way,  scarce 
believing  them.  I  made  a  resolution  then 
and  there  that  if  I  were  ever  in  business  I 
would  never  refuse  any  one  work. 

I  went  down  through  the  various  grades 
with  equal  success,  or  rather  lack  of  it. 
Finally,  I  approached  the  coal  and  wood 
man  to  whom  I  had  just  paid  a  steep  bill 
for  coal  for  our  own  house.  I  suppose  he 
thought  me  crazy.  He  told  me  I  was  not 
strong  enough  to  do  any  of  the  work  he 
had  to  do.  But  after  I  had  pleaded  with 
him  a  while  he  made  me  an  offer — actual- 
ly made  me  an  offer.  He  even  went  so 
far  as  to  give  me  a  choice  of  work.  He 
told  me  that  I  could  go  to  work  at  once  driv- 
ing a  coal  wagon,  or  that  he  could  give  me  a 
chance  to  earn  at  least  some  money  by  sawing 
wood.  He  had  to  depend  on  a  few  loafers 
around  town  to  saw  wood  for  him,  and  as  a 
rule,  they  were  drunk  when  he  most  wanted 
them.  He  did  not  believe  I  would  get  drunk, 
and  would  therefore  give  me  the  contract  to 
do  all  of  his  wood  sawing.  I  thankfully  ac- 


I    SAW   WOOD.  83 

cepted  the  offer,  and  agreed  never  to  disap- 
point him.  The  matter  of  remuneration  was 
easily  settled,  and  I  agreed  to  his  first  offer, 
which  seemed  to  please  him.  It  really  did  not 
matter  to  me,  as  whatever  I  earned  was  to  go 
to  charity,  and  if  the  amount  was  not  suffi- 
cient to  satisfy  Aunt  Alice,  I  could  easily 
make  it  up  out  of  my  own  pocket.  There  was 
nothing  in  my  agreement  with  her  to  pro- 
hibit that. 

"  Well,"  said  the  coal  and  wood  man,  "  take 
off  your  coat  and  go  to  work.  You'll  find 
the  best  bucksaw  in  town  hanging  on  that 
nail  over  there.  When  you  find  blisters  on 
your  hands,  just  go  right  on  as  though  noth- 
ing had  happened.  After  a  while  your  hands 
will  get  used  to  it,  and  you  won't  need  to 
wear  kid  gloves  any  more." 

"  I  think,"  I  answered,  with  some  hesita- 
tion, "  that  I'll  take  my  work  home  with  me." 

"  What?  "  he  roared.  "  Take  your  work 
home  with  you?  What  do  you  think  you're 
doing — plain  sewing  or  washing  and  ironing? 
You're  a  bigger  fool  than  I  thought  you 
were." 


84  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  answered,  getting  rather 
angry.  "  I  prefer  to  do  the  work  at  home, 
and  if  I  pay  for  having  the  wood  drawn  to 
my  house  and  back  again  surely  you  can  have 
no  objection." 

The  coal  and  wood  man  uttered  a  pro- 
longed whistle. 

"  Well,  you  are  a  queer  one,"  he  said.  "  But 
it  doesn't  make  any  difference  to  me  where 
you  do  the  work  so  long  as  you  do  it.  And 
if  you  want  to  pay  for  having  it  drawn  back 
and  forth,  why  that's  just  so  much  more  busi- 
ness for  my  teams.  But  I  don't  see  how 
you're  going  to  make  a  living  going  at  it  that 
way." 

I  did  not  try  to  enlighten  him,  but  closed 
the  bargain  at  once,  and  that  afternoon  his 
teams  began  hauling  wood  to  our  yard. 

"  You  see,"  I  said  to  Laura,  when  I  ex- 
plained matters  to  her,  "  by  this  arrangement 
I  can  be  near  you  all  day  long.  And  then 
sawing  wood  is  nice  clean  work,  and  will  be 
splendid  exercise." 

The  dear  girl  saw  the  point  at  once,  and 
approved  my  decision  heartily.  She  even  tore 


I   SAW   WOOD.  85 

up  two  of  her  flower  beds  to  make  room  for 
me  to  work  in  near  the  house. 

When  informed  of  the  state  of  affairs  the 
author  of  the  monograph  remarked  that  "  it 
would  give  me  an  awful  appetite,"  and  looked 
despairingly  at  the  cook-book. 

"  Feed  me  on  bacon,"  I  said,  encouraging- 
ly. "  They  say  its  splendid  for  workingmen, 
and  besides  I  can  use  the  rind  on  the  saw." 

Aunt  Alice  looked  at  it  from  a  different 
point  of  view.  She  declared  that  "  I  wasn't 
strong  enough  for  such  work,  and  that  it  was 
a  shame  for  Laura  to  permit  me  to  do  it."  At 
this  Laura  looked  so  blank  that  I  hastened 
to  assure  her  that  I  was  quite  strong  enough 
for  the  work.  In  fact,  that  it  would  be  only 
mild  exercise  for  me,  such  as  I  was  accus- 
tomed to  at  college  and  before. 

Mr.  Dickson  surmised  that  "  there  must  be 
some  mistake.  He  had  never  read  of  Love- 
lace's sawing  wood.  But  it  was  possible  he 
had  done  it." 

Alex  merely  looked  at  me  with  amusement 
when  I  told  him,  with  an  air  of  quizzical  con- 
descension, as  it  were. 


86  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

But  Jane  slapped  me  on  the  back  and  whis- 
pered in  my  ear : 

"  Good  for  you — and  stick  to  it,  if  it  breaks 
your  back." 

I  had  not  thought  of  my  back  before  in  the 
matter.  Her  remark  worried  me  just  a  trifle 
on  that  account.  But  otherwise  the  speech 
was  full  of  encouragement  and  worthy  of  the 
sister  of  my  Laura. 

The  next  morning  I  went  to  work. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

AN  EXPERIMENTAL  TRADES  UNION. 

I  do  not  like  to  receive  visitors  when  I  am 
engaged  in  my  professional  duties.  It  will  be 
seen  that  I  regard  wood  sawing  as  a  profes- 
sion. It  is.  It  is  too  hard  for  work.  But  the 
public  and  my  friends  did  not  consider  my 
wishes  in  the  matter. 

Alex  and  his  wife  came  over  and  took  seats 
on  the  grass  to  watch  me  at  my  work.  The 
former  brought  his  pipe  and  the  latter  some 
fancy  work.  They  were  prepared  to  stay  all 
day.  I  felt  like  asking  them  if  they  had 
brought  their  lunch  with  them,  but  I  soon 
found  that  I  had  no  breath  to  waste  on  words. 

Aunt  Alice  came  over,  had  a  chair  brought, 
produced  her  knitting,  and  told  me  how  men 
used  to  saw  wood  when  she  was  young. 

Mr.  Dickson  strolled  up  soon  after,  and  the 
author  of  the  monograph  watched  from  the 


88  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

window  whenever  she  could  get  an  excuse  to 
look  out.  It  was  a  nice  little  wood  sawing 
party.  I  wish  I  could  have  made  it  a  progres- 
sive wood  sawing  party.  Perhaps  Alex  and 
Mr.  Dickson  would  not  have  grinned  so  much 
then.  They  would  have  had  to  take  their 
'turn. 

But  there  were  others.  The  neighbors 
strolled  over  to  see  the  sport,  and  leaned  on 
the  front  fence,  while  their  children  took 
turns  in  parties  of  six  swinging  on  the  gate. 

It  takes  but  little  to  draw  a  crowd. 

By  noon  half  of  the  town  was  watching  the 
strange  sight  of  a  man  sawing  wood.  They 
were  an  orderly  crowd,  and  stood  there  in 
breathless  silence.  They  did  not  attempt  to 
guy  me,  as  I  expected  they  would.  They 
seemed  to  be  merely  dazed  at  the  unusual 
sight.  As  time  wore  on,  and  they  grew  tired 
of  standing,  more  and  more  of  them  leaned 
upon  the  fence,  until  at  last  it  went  down,  car- 
rying the  gate  and  all  souls  aboard  with  it. 
The  wreck  was  complete,  but  there  was  no 
loss  of  life,  for  which  I  was  thankful.  It  was 
my  fault,  of  course,  being  the  owner  of  the 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   TRADES    UNION.  89 

fence,  that  it  was  not  strong  enough  to  sup- 
port the  weight  of  three  human  beings  to  the 
linear  foot,  and  if  any  one  had  been  seriously 
hurt  I  would  have  been  sued  for  damages. 

If  you  have  never  sawed  wood,  don't  try. 
It  is  the  hardest  professional  work  in  the 
world.  As  an  exercise  it  is  to  be  commended, 
but  as  work,  it  is  to  be  avoided,  shunned,  cast 
off,  given  to  the  poor.  There  is  no  muscle 
that  it  does  not  tire,  no  bone  that  it  does 
not  break.  In  half  an  hour  I  was  so  weak  I 
could  have  dropped. 

"  Stick  to  it,"  whispered  Jane. 

"  Don't  give  up,"  said  Laura. 

These  two  sisters  were  Spartans  reincar- 
nated, at  least  for  that  day.  They  did  not 
know  the  torture  to  which  they  were  subject- 
ing me.  It  was  awful. 

"  If  I  could  only  do  something  else,"  I 
thought,  as  I  bent  my  tired  back  over  the  saw 
and  worked  it  with  almost  palsied  arms,  "  just 
for  a  little  while  every  now  and  then,  I  believe 
I  could  pull  through  the  day." 

But  there  was  nothing  else  to  do. 

I  looked  appealingly  at  Alex.     He  merely 


90  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

glanced  back  with  a  sardonic  smile.  I  looked 
pleadingly  at  Mr.  Dickson.  He  was  lost  in 
thought,  and  murmured  "  Tantalus." 

The  Spartan  sisters  noticed  my  action. 

"  Stick  to  it,"  whispered  Jane,  again. 

"  Don't  give  up,"  repeated  Laura. 

It  was  the  author  of  the  monograph  who 
saved  my  life  that  day.  In  some  way  or 
other  she  knew  and  understood.  Perhaps 
she  had  learned  to  saw  wood  at  Vassar. 
At  any  rate,  just  as  I  was  about  to  collapse, 
Cicely  dropped  a  wash-basin  from  her  kitchen 
window  with  a  little  shriek. 

"  Don't  go  after  it,  Mr.  Wilson,"  she  cried ; 
"  I'll  run  downstairs  and  get  it." 

But  she  did  not  start  to  run.  On  the  con- 
trary, she  remained  in  the  window  and  winked 
most  prodigiously.  I  saw  the  point,  and 
started  for  the  basin,  shouting : 

"  Never  mind — I'll  get  it  for  you,  and  bring 
it  up.  I  know  you're  tired." 

But  Alex  jumped  up  also. 

"  Let  me  get  it,"  he  said,  springing  toward 
the  basin.  "  I'm  not  as  tired  as  either  of  you. 
I'll  take  it  up  to  her." 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   TRADES   UNION.  91 

"  Oh,  no,"  I  answered.  "  I'll  do  it.  You 
must  be  awfully  tired  from  sitting  on  the  grass 
in  that  awkward  position." 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  answered.    "  I  insist." 

"  So  do  I  insist,"  I  replied. 

"  But  you  can't  climb  the  stairs  or  even 
work  the  elevator  with  that  cramp  in  your 
back,  and  that  dull,  tired,  stiff  feeling  in  your 
arms  and  legs,"  he  went  on. 

"  I  am  as  fresh  as  a  daisy,"  I  replied. 

By  this  time  we  were  both  grasping  the 
pan  and  struggling  for  the  possession  of  it. 
He  was  bound  to  see  his  joke  through  and 
make  me  stick  at  the  wood  sawing  until  I 
dropped  from  sheer  exhaustion.  I  was  deter- 
mined not  to  give  him  that  opportunity  to 
laugh  at  me.  I  knew  a  little  trick  which  I 
had  learned  when  a  boy,  and  I  saw  an  oppor- 
tunity to  use  it.  He  stood  with  the  weight 
of  his  body  resting  on  one  foot  and  the  other 
advanced  carelessly.  I  stepped  in,  caught  the 
ankle  of  the  leg  which  supported  him  in  the 
crook  of  my  opposite  foot,  and,  with  a  twist, 
threw  him  backward  to  the  ground. 

To  my  shame  and  regret,  I  was  more  sue-- 


92  AN   EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

cessful  than  I  expected  to  be.  Alex's  head 
struck  the  stone  border  of  our  long  walk,  and 
he  was  knocked  senseless.  In  a  moment  I  was 
beside  him  exclaiming  against  myself  in 
agony  at  what  I  had  done.  With  the  help  of 
a  couple  of  neighbors  I  then  carried  him  into 
the  house,  and  by  the  time  the  doctor  arrived 
he  was  fairly  recovered. 

"  You  did  perfectly  right,  Ned,"  said  he, 
when  he  had  recovered  sufficiently  to  talk. 
"  I  was  trying  to  play  a  mean  trick." 

"  No,"  I  protested.  "  I  should  never  have 
done  it,  and  would  not,  had  I  known  the  con- 
sequences that  would  follow." 

We  shook  hands  and  were  better  friends 
than  ever  after  the  little  incident. 

Perhaps  it  was  fortunate  that  the  accident 
happened,  for  Cicely  confided  to  me  that  she 
intended  to  set  the  house  on  fire  if  the  dish- 
pan  trick  of  hers  did  not  work.  As  it  was,  I 
got  a  good  rest  for  the  remainder  of  the 
morning. 

At  one  in  the  afternoon  I  took  my  place 
promptly  by  the  side  of  the  woodpile  and  be- 
gan work  again.  The  populace  had  disap- 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   TRADES    UNION.  93 

peared,  undoubtedly  supposing  that  my  work 
had  been  given  up  for  the  day,  and  fearing 
perhaps  that  some  of  them  might  be  made 
to  pay  for  the  broken  fence.  The  women 
remained  indoors  to  wait  on  the  injured  man, 
and  Mr.  Dickson  had  gone  home. 

I  fancied  for  a  time  that  I  was  to  be  left 
in  peace  for  my  afternoon's  work.  But  I  was 
doomed  to  disappointment.  While  stopping 
to  grease  my  saw,  which  I  did  very  often,  I 
heard  from  the  depths  of  space  the  low,  mo- 
notonous sing-song  of  a  marching  cry.  Be- 
fore the  saw  was  properly  greased,  and  the 
greasing  of  a  saw  is  an  art  which  requires 
time  and  great  care,  the  sound  had  become 
distinct,  and  I  could  recognize  the  words  of 
the  cry.  They  were  these : 

"  Scab,  Scab, Scab,  Scab,  Scab." 

Occasionally,  however,  they  were  varied 
with  this: 

"  Work,  Work— We  Want  Work." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  mystery  was  solved. 
A  procession  appeared  marching  around  the 
corner.  It  consisted  of  three  men  in  single 
file — and  the  three  men  were  the  most  noto- 


94  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

rious  drunkards  and  loafers  of  the  town.  To 
be  sure,  they  occasionally  did  some  work, 
otherwise  they  could  not  get  drunk  quite  so 
often  as  they  did.  But  one  had  to  spend  a 
dollar's  worth  of  time  pleading  with  them  to 
do  a  dollar's  worth  of  work,  which  one  did 
only  because  it  was  not  a  choice  kind  of  work 
to  do. 

The  man  in  the  center  of  the  procession 
carried  a  banner  made  of  cloth  which  had 
once  been  white,  upon  which  these  words 
appeared  in  rudely  drawn  letters,  and  with  a 
description  of  spelling  which  I  have  taken  the 
liberty  to  correct : 

Wood  Sawyers' 
Experimental  Trades  Union 

No.  i. 

Down  with  the  Rich 
Who  would  Monopolize  Labor. 

The  procession  halted  in  front  of  my  wood- 
pile, but  continued  to  utter  their  cry  of  "Scab." 
I  was  vexed  beyond  expression  and  thought 
of  calling  the  police.  I  did  not  want  another 
crowd  in  front  of  my  house,  however,  and  I 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   TRADES    UNION.  95 

saw  that  I  must  get  rid  of  them  in  some  other 
way.  So  I  approached  them  soothingly. 

"  My  good  friends,"  I  began,  "  what  do  you 
want?" 

"  Work !  "  they  shouted  in  chorus. 

"  But  I  have  no  work  to  give,"  I  answered. 

"  You  are  taking  the  food  from  the  mouths 
of  our  wives  and  children,"  said  one  of  them. 

I  knew  perfectly  well  that  none  of  them 
had  either  wife  or  children,  but  their  plaint 
touched  a  tender  chord  in  my  heart,  for  I, 
also,  had  been  hunting  work  a  few  days  be- 
fore. I  said  as  much  to  them. 

"  It  isn't  the  chord  in  your  heart  we  want," 
answered  their  apparent  spokesman,  "  but  the 
cord  in  your  yard." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  I  asked,  in  aston- 
ishment. 

"  Just  this,"  answered  the  man ;  "  we  saw 
all  the  wood  in  this  town,  at  least  we  did  so 
until  you  took  the  job  away  from  us." 

I  saw  the  point. 

"  We  are  going  to  boycott  you,  until  you 
give  us  back  our  work,"  he  went  on. 

I  had  been  annoyed  enough  in  my  chosen 


96  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

vocation  already.  I  realized  the  trouble  these 
men  could  make  me  and  the  ridicule  I  would 
suffer  if  they  continued  their  present  method 
of  annoyance. 

"  Look  here,"  I  asked,  "  what  will  you  take 
per  day  to  leave  me  alone  with  my  wood  saw- 
ing?" 

They  held  a  short  conversation  among 
themselves.  The  spokesman  finally  advanced 
and  said : 

"  Boss,  if  you'll  give  us  a  dollar  a  day  apiece 
we'll  leave  you  alone,  and  let  you  do  all  the 
wood  sawing  in  the  world  if  you  want  to ;  but 
you  are  not  to  sift  ashes,  shovel  snow  or  coal, 
or  do  handy  work  about  houses.  Is  it  a  go?  " 

It  was  and  it  went.  I  gave  them  each  a 
week's  wages  in  advance,  saw  them  tear  up 
their  banner,  and  make  in  haste  for  the  saloon 
district  of  the  town.  Then  I  proceeded  with 
my  work  in  peace  and  happiness  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ALEX  SAWS  WOOD. 

When  I  awoke  the  next  morning  I  sent 
hurriedly  for  the  doctor.  I  was  paralyzed,  I 
thought,  or  about  to  be.  I  could  barely  move 
a  muscle,  and  my  hands  were  swollen  and 
blistered.  I  thought  I  was  about  to  die.  The 
doctor  said  I  would  some  day,  but  not  that 
one.  He  had  the  cruelty  to  laugh  at  me.  He 
had  the  greater  cruelty  to  make  me  get  up  and 
dress.  Then  he  tied  my  hands  up  in  conspicu- 
ous white  bandages,  and  made  me  go  forth 
and  exercise  my  lame  muscles  in  every  way 
possible.  I  took  a  long  walk,  which  would 
have  been  perfect  agony  but  for  the  compan- 
ionship of  Laura,  who  seemed  to  understand 
what  the  difficulty  was,  with  a  woman's  intui- 
tion. She,  moreover,  arranged  a  scheme  by 
which  my  hands  were  protected  from  the  pub- 
lic gaze.  She  made  me  thrust  one  in  the  breast 


98  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

of  my  coat  and  the  other  in  my  pocket.  She 
then  took  my  arm  and  we  walked  miles.  After 
the  walk  I  felt  so  much  better  that  I  blessed 
not  only  her  but  the  doctor. 

I  did  not  saw  wood  that  day,  however.  I 
got  a  certificate  from  my  physician  to  the 
effect  that  I  was  unable  to  perform  such  labor 
on  account  of  illness,  and  I  showed  the  cer- 
tificate to  all  friends  and  enemies  who  ap- 
peared to  me.  I  took  especial  pains  to  go  out 
and  show  the  certificate  to  my  "  boss,"  as  I 
now  called  him,  when  he  came  around  to  see 
how  I  was  getting  on. 

"  Kind  of  a  queer  sickness,"  said  he,  with  a 
grin,  "  that  takes  a  man  in  his  hands." 

''  Are  you  a  physician?  "  I  asked. 

"  Nope,"  he  answered,  "  but  my  wife  is 
somewhat  of  a  doctor.  She's  got  a  liniment 
that  came  down  to  her  from  her  great-grand- 
mother that  might  be  good  for  you.  It  cures 
most  everything  inside  or  out,  and  is  good 
for  man  or  beast.  Shall  I  send  some  over  to 
you?  " 

I  thanked  him,  but  assured  him  I  was  not  in 
need  of  it. 


ALEX    SAWS   WOOD.  99 

"  Well,  let  me  know,"  said  he,  "  if  you  get 
worse,  and  I'll  send  some  over.  It's  right 
smart  on  blisters." 

"  I've  no  doubt  it  is,"  I  replied,  "  but  the 
medicine  I  have  is  smart  enough  for  me.  In 
fact,  it  smarts  more  than  I  would  like  to 
have  it." 

He  extended  his  hand. 

"Well,  good-by,"  he  said.  "I'll  send 
around  this  afternoon  and  get  the  wood 
you've  sawed." 

"  Man  is  a  creature  of  habit,"  I  believe 
some  one  once  said.  When  he  extended  his 
hand  I  thoughtlessly  but  naturally  extended 
my  own  to  grasp  it,  and  he  gave  mine  such  a 
squeeze  that  I  almost  yelled  with  pain. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  he  asked,  with  ap- 
parent innocence.  "  I  always  like  that  kind 
of  a  handshake,  don't  you?  " 

"  I  hope  your  wife's  liniment  is  not  as  caus- 
tic as  your  speech,"  I  replied,  and  turned  away 
from  him  with  hate  in  my  heart. 

Hate  does  no  one  good  as  I  soon  found 
out. 

My  sore  hands  kept  me  idle  for  a  week,  and 


100  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

for  a  good  part  of  that  time  I  moped  around 
the  "  Experimental  House."  The  other ; 
moped  in  sympathy  with  me,  and  life  was 
dreary  enough  to  delight  the  most  pro- 
nounced misanthrope. 

Something  had  to  be  done  to  amuse  us, 
and  I  finally  suggested  a  dinner  party. 

"  To  whom  shall  we  give  it?  "  asked  Laura. 

"  Certainly  to  no  one  outside  of  our  imme- 
diate circle,"  I  answered,  "  for  we  want  no 
strangers  around  until  I  can  carve  better  than 
I  can  with  these  sore  hands." 

"  Let's  give  it  to  Alex  and  Jane,"  she  sug- 
gested. 

"  Good  idea,"  I  replied ;  "  but  do  you  think 
the  author  of  the  monograph  can  cook  well 
enough  yet  to  satisfy  such  a  gourmet  as  Alex 
is?" 

"  We'll  let  him  cook  the  dinner,"  she 
answered,  with  a  smile. 

"  And  let  Jane  wash  the  dishes,"  I  added. 
"  It  will  be  a  unique  idea." 

"  An  '  experimental  dinner  party,'  at  which 
the  guests  do  all  the  work,"  said  she. 

"  Why  has  society  never  thought  of  such  a 


ALEX    SAWS   WOOD.  IOI 

thing  before?  It  would  certainly  be  popular 
and  take  the  place  of  the  old-fashioned  sur- 
prise party." 

The  dinner  was  arranged.  Alex  came  over 
to  the  "  experimental  house  "  with  his  wife 
and  cooked  the  dinner,  while  his  wife  agreed 
cheerfully  to  wash  the  dishes  again,  against 
the  protest  of  poor  Cicely,  who  declared  she 
certainly  could  do  that  as  well  as  any  one. 

We  were  about  to  sit  down  to  the  tempting 
table  when  the  electric  bell  rang  violent- 
ly. A  minute  later  Cicely  announced  my 
"  boss,"  the  wood  and  coal  merchant,  to  see 
me.  He  would  not  come  up  to  the  parlor,  but 
insisted  on  remaining  in  the  attic. 

"  Let  him  wait  until  we  are  through," 
growled  Alex. 

"  No,  Ned,"  said  Laura,  "  remember  he  is 
your  boss,  and  has  a  right  to  call  on  business 
at  any  time." 

"  Go  and  see  him  at  once,"  said  Aunt  Alice, 
"  or  he  may  disturb  something  in  that  delight- 
ful attic." 

I  went. 

He  wanted  a  cord  of  wood. 


102  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"All  right,"  I  said,  with  a  groan.  "I'll 
saw  it  this  afternoon." 

"  This  afternoon  won't  do,"  he  answered. 
"  My  customer  wants  it  in  an  hour.  You 
ought  to  have  it  already  sawed  and  on  hand, 
and  you  remember  you  are  under  contract 
to  keep  me  supplied." 

"  But  we  are  just  sitting  down  to  dinner," 
I  gasped. 

"  Don't  make  no  difference.  It  ought  to 
be  sawed  and  ready.  You're  a  laboring  man 
now  and  you  have  no  right  to  your  dinner  un- 
til you've  earned  it.  Besides,  I  once  heard  a 
doctor  say  it  was  good  for  the  health  to  earn 
a  meal  before  you  eat  it,  and  you  know  you're 
a  sick  man." 

"  I've  got  three  men  in  my  employ,"  I  sug- 
gested. "  I'll  send  for  them  and  have  it  sawed 
in  no  time." 

"  No  use,"  he  answered.  "  I  know  all  about 
your  three  men.  I've  been  trying  to  get  them 
to  do  some  necessary  work  for  me  for  the 
past  week,  and  so  have  others.  They're  drunk 
and  won't  do  work  for  any  one.  You've  upset 
the  labor  market  in  this  town,  and  you  ought 


ALEX   SAWS  WOOD.  IOJ 

to  be  made  to  suffer  for  it.  I  want  that  wood 
and  I  want  it  quick." 

"  Let  me  think  it  over,"  I  replied. 

"All  right,"  he  agreed.  "I'll  wait  here. 
In  fact,  I  am  going  to  wait  here  until  I  get 
my  cord  of  wood." 

I  went  upstairs  in  disgust  and  explained 
the  situation  to  the  dinner  party. 

"  Let  him  wait,"  said  Alex. 

Aunt  Alice  and  Mr.  Dickson,  who  was,  of 
course,  of  the  party,  agreed  with  Alex. 

I  looked  at  Jane — and  she  looked  at  the 
floor. 

I  looked  at  Laura — and  saw  in  her  eyes  ex- 
actly what  I  expected  to. 

"  I  am  going  to  saw  that  wood  now,"  I  said, 
determinedly. 

"  Good  for  you ! "  exclaimed  Laura,  and 
Jane  echoed  the  exclamation. 

Alex  looked  for  a  moment  at  the  two  wom- 
en and  then  at  me,  as  I  was  starting  to  leave 
the  room. 

"I'll  help,"  he  said,  quietly,  and  started 
after  me. 

"  What,  you?  "  almost  shrieked  Aunt  Alice. 


104  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"  Yes,  I,"  answered  Alex. 

"  Why,  you  never  did  a  stroke  of  work  in 
your  life !  "  exclaimed  his  aunt. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  time  to  begin,"  he  answered. 

Alex  found  another  saw  and  buck  in  his 
aunt's  barn,  and  between  us  we  soon  made  a 
good  start  on  the  cord  of  wood.  Our  "  boss  " 
sat  in  the  meanwhile  on  a  lawn  chair,  spat  to- 
bacco on  the  gravel  walk,  and  fired  occasional 
words  of  sarcastic  intent  at  us  in  his  own  pe- 
culiar style. 

"  It's  a  stick — stick  to  it,"  he  remarked. 

We  replied  in  eloquent  silence. 

"  It's  wood — would  you  like  to  be  through 
with  it?  "  he  tried  again. 

Alex  fired  a  chunk  of  the  same  wood  at 
him — which  missed. 

"•It's  pine — don't  you  pine  to  be  up  eating 
your  dinner?  " 

We  saw  that  paying  attention  to  him  was 
simply  encouraging  him,  so  we  bent  more 
firmly  to  our  task.  Determination  can  accom- 
plish wonders,  and  we  had  our  cord  of  wood 
sawed  in  so  short  a  time  that  we  were  our- 
selves surprised. 


ALEX    SAWS   WOOD.  105 

As  we  stood  wiping  the  perspiration  from 
our  faces  and  looking  in  triumph  at  our 
"  boss,"  Laura  and  Jane  appeared  on  the 
scene  with  a  bunch  of  flowers  for  each  of  us, 
which  they  presented  with  mock  gravity. 

"  Alex  deserves  them  both,"  I  remarked, 
"  as  he  had  a  rusty  old  saw  and  I  had  a  new 
one." 

"  It's  an  old  saw,"  said  Alex,  "  that  one" 
good  turn  deserves  another,  and  I  want  to 
know  the  villain  who  was  in  such  a  hurry  for 
this  wood.  Will  you  tell  us,  Mr.  '  Boss  '?  " 

"  Why,  cert,"  said  the  latter.  "  It's  for  old 
Mr.  Smythe,  the  fellow  who  owns  the  flower 
beds  you  and  your  wife  galloped  through  the 
other  day.  He  got  married  yesterday,  and  he 
is  taking  his  bridal  trip  showing  his  wife 
around  the  house.  She  discovered  a  fireplace 
in  one  of  the  rooms,  and  thought  a  wood  fire 
in  it  would  make  her  life  more  cheerful." 

"  I  fancy  it  would,"  said  Jane. 

But  Alex  merely  went  far  out  into  the  gar- 
den and  said  things  to  which  we  did  not  dare 
listen. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  MIDNIGHT  ALARM. 

We  did  not  see  either  Alex  or  his  wife  the 
next  day.  Alex  was  not  in  a  mood  to  see  any 
one,  and  his  wife  of  course  remained  with  him. 
They  were  "  utter  failures "  in  matrimony 
without  a  doubt.  They  could  not  bear  to  be 
separated  from  each  other.  I  hope  that  when 
they  die  they  will  do  so  at  the  same  instant — 
or  if  not,  that  they  will  live  forever. 

Alex  was  sore  over  sawing  the  wood,  but 
he  was  sorer  because  he  had  sawed  it  for  Mr. 
Smythe.  I  understood  exactly  how  he  felt; 
and  as  I  felt  rather  disgusted  myself  over  the 
performance,  we  spent  a  rather  blue  day  in 
the  "  experimental  house."  I  saw  that  my 
"  boss  "  had  me  in  a  rather  bad  situation,  and 
he  was  just  the  kind  of  a  man  to  take  advan- 
tage of  it.  I  thought  of  offering  my  three 
employees  an  extra  dollar  a  day  to  keep  sober 


A    MIDNIGHT   ALARM.  107 

and  work  for  other  people,  especially  my 
"  boss  " ;  but  I  concluded  that  it  would  not 
do.  It  would  but  add  to  their  temptation, 
and  they  might  land  in  jail. 

In  such  a  frame  of  mind  I  went  to  bed  that 
night  in  my  boarding-house,  and  in  conse- 
quence did  not  sleep  well.  It  was  a  lucky 
thing,  for  about  midnight  I  heard  the  tele- 
phone bell  tinkle  faintly  downstairs.  I  lis- 
tened. No  one  appeared  to  be  awake,  and  I 
knew  that  a  telephone  at  that  time  of  night 
must  mean  something  serious.  I  arose, 
dressed,  and  hurried  downstairs.  The  bell  was 
still  tinkling,  and  a  moment  later  I  was  talk- 
ing to  the  author  of  the  monograph. 

"  Mr.  Wilson,"  said  she. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered. 

"  Can  you  be  perfectly  calm?  " 

That  is  the  way  they  always  begin  when 
they  want  to  strain  one's  nerves. 

"  Perfectly — of  course,"  I  answered,  but  my 
heart  began  thumping  with  anxiety.  I  sup- 
posed that  at  the  least  Laura  must  be  dying  or 
dead. 

"  Well "  she  continued. 


108  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  hurry  up,"  I 
shrieked. 

Of  course  I  yelled  too  loud  in  my  excite- 
ment. 

"  I  did  not  understand  you ;  get  nearer  the 
'phone,"  she  said. 

"  Tell  me  at  once  what  is  the  matter,"  I 
commanded,  calming  myself  by  a  tremendous 
effort.  "  I  am  half  sick  with  anxiety." 

"  Half  sick?  "  she  answered.  "  Then  I 
wouldn't  dare  to  tell  you." 

"  Cicely,"  I  said,  with  a  growl  of  suppressed 
rage,  "  I  am  perfectly  well,  perfectly  calm,  and 
perfectly  furious.  If  you  do  not  tell  me,  and 
at  once,  all  you  have  to  say,  you  shall  leave 
our  employ  to-morrow,  as  sure  as  the  sun 
rises,  and  about  the  same  time." 

She  answered  then.  Her  answer  was  a  dis- 
tinct disappointment  and  a  great  relief  at  the 
same  time. 

"  There  is  a  burglar  prowling  around  the 
house." 

That  was  all.  Merely  prowling  around  the 
house. 

Now,  if  he  had  been  climbing  down  the 


A   MIDNIGHT   ALARM.  109 

interior  of  the  chimney,  or  up  the  side  of  the 
house,  or  into  a  window  with  a  glittering 
knife  in  his  mouth,  or  stealing  Aunt  Alice's 
precious  cobwebs  in  the  attic,  there  would 
have  been  something  to  get  excited  about. 
But  he  was  merely  prowling  around  the 
house. 

Nevertheless,  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  protect 
the  girl,  or  at  least  assuage  her  fears,  so  I  told 
her  I  would  go  around  and  ask  the  burglar  to 
please  prowl  around  some  other  house.  I  do 
not  think  she  caught  the  sarcasm  in  my  re- 
mark, for  she  answered : 

"  Perhaps  he  will  if  you  are  polite  enough 
to  him." 

I  put  on  my  hat  and  stole  out  of  doors.  I 
was  the  only  person  who  stole  anything  that 
night.  The  crescent  moon  made  an  indistinct 
light,  and  I  walked  in  the  middle  of  the  road. 
I  wanted  the  burglar  to  see  me  first.  Some- 
times they  go  away  if  they  see  the  other  man 
first.  I  had  a  hope  also  that  I  would  meet  a 
policeman  to  take  along  just  for  company. 
No  such  luck.  I  was  compelled  to  face  the 
situation  alone.  As  I  neared  the  house  I 


110  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

heard  a  faint,  peculiar  sound,  which  I  knew 
full  well.  Some  one  was  sawing  wood.  My 
heart  went  down  to  zero  at  once.  Undoubt- 
edly the  burglar  was  sawing  his  way  into  the 
house.  I  hastened  forward,  intending  to  hide 
behind  the  woodpile,  but  when  I  got  within 
a  hundred  feet  of  the  place  I  stopped  short 
and  stepped  quickly  behind  a  tree  that  stood 
nearby. 

Thej  burglar  was  there  sure  enough.  But 
he  wasn't  prowling  around  the  house. 

He  was  sawing  wood  at  my  woodpile. 

Here  was  a  curiosity.  I  concluded  to  watch 
him.  He  did  not  saw  very  much.  In  fact,  he 
stopped  when  he  had  sawed  off  but  one  stick. 
Then  he  did  another  peculiar  thing.  He  pro- 
duced an  auger  and  bored  a  hole  in  the  end 
of  the  stick.  This  seemed  to  be  hard  work, 
for  he  stopped  several  times  and  wiped  the 
perspiration  from  his  brow,  as  near  as  I  could 
judge  by  his  actions,  for  I  saw  him  but  indis- 
tinctly. He  made  some  peculiar  moves  after 
he  had  bored  the  hole  in  the  wood,  but  I 
could  not  reason  out  what  they  meant,  though 
I  distinctly  heard  him  pounding  something, 


A   MIDNIGHT   ALARM.  HI 

and  then  noticed  that  he  sawed  a  thin  section 
of  the  stick  off  at  the  end  where  he  had  bored. 
Then  he  stopped  to  rest  for  a  moment.  I 
awaited  his  next  move  with  bated  breath.  It 
was  away  from  the  house  and  he  carried  the 
stick  with  him,  tucked  under  his  arm. 

I  concluded  to  follow  him  at  a  safe  distance, 
so  I  waited  for  a  moment.  A  window  in  the 
"experimental  house"  was  cautiously  opened. 
I  knew  by  whom,  and  in  a  whisper  loud 
enough  to  be  heard  by  her  and  not  by  the  bur- 
glar, I  assured  Cicely  of  her  safety.  Then  I 
strode  off  into  the  dim  moonlight  after  my 
burglar.  He  went  in  the  direction  of  Mr. 
Smythe's  house,  across  the  fields.  I  breathed 
a  sigh  of  relief  at  this,  for  I  feared  that  he 
might  possibly  be  making  for  Alex's  resi- 
dence, which  lay  somewhat  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. 

He  was  a  queer  burglar.  He  seemed  to  be 
utterly  unafraid  of  discovery.  I  expected  that 
he  would  dodge  from  shadow  to  shadow  and 
shun  the  moonlight,  but  he  walked  boldly  in 
the  open  and  had  the  double  audacity  to  light 
and  smoke  a  cigar.  To  my  mind  this  argued 


112  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

that  he  was  a  desperate  man  indeed.  He  evi- 
dently feared  no  "  foe  in  shining  armor,"  or  in 
any  other  kind.  He  also  whistled  a  merry  tune. 
But  it  did  not  seem  to  be  to  keep  his  courage 
up — it  wasn't  that  kind  of  a  whistle.  It  was 
rather  the  joyous  whistle  of  a  man  going  to 
his  wedding. 

He  threw  away  his  cigar,  however,  upon 
nearing  the  Smythe  residence  and  observed 
more  caution.  I  closed  in  a  little  now  in  order 
to  be  able  to  watch  him  more  closely  in  the 
various  shadows  cast  by  the  buildings.  To 
my  amazement  he  did  not  go  near  the  resi- 
dence itself,  but  made  for  the  outbuildings. 

"  Pshaw,"  I  thought,  "  is  he  a  mere  robber 
of  hen-roosts?  " 

He  did  not  go  near  the  hen-roost,  either, 
but  made  straight  for  the  Smythe  woodshed ! 

Here  was  a  mystery  of  mysteries!  What 
could  the  man  want  in  the  woodshed.  Ob- 
viously wood.  But  for  what  purpose?  He 
could  have  obtained  all  he  wanted  at  my  shed. 
Was  he  a  collector  of  specimens  of  firewood? 
It  seemed  the  most  reasonable  of  any  proposi- 
tion I  could  think  of,  and  yet  how  unreason- 


A  MIDNIGHT  ALARM.  113 

able.  I  had  heard  of  collectors  of  bugs,  dogs, 
minerals,  butterflies,  stamps,  autographs,  and 
a  dozen  other  things.  But  who  ever  heard 
of  a  collector  of  specimens  of  firewood  be- 
fore? 

"  Perhaps,"  I  thought,  "  I  am  following  a 
human  rara  avis  instead  of  a  burglar." 

Again  I  was  surprised.  The  burglar  left  the 
woodshed,  not  with  another  stick  of  wood 
under  his  arm,  but  without  any ! 

I  changed  my  supposition  again.  The  man 
was  either  a  burglar  or  a  born  fool,  and  the 
indications  pointed  to  the  latter  theory.  Per- 
haps he  was  crazy.  At  any  rate,  the  situation 
became  more  alarming,  for  he  struck  off  on 
the  road  to  Alex's  house,  which  stood  dis- 
tinctly outlined  on  its  hill,  not  far  distant.  I 
followed  now  breathless  with  anxiety.  There 
was  not  the  glimmer  of  a  light  in  Alex's 
house.  All  were  asleep.  My  best  of  friends 
and  his  wife  might  possibly  be  in  danger  of 
their  lives. 

The  burglar  was  more  imprudent,  more 
confident,  more  desperate  this  time.  He 
lighted  a  cigar  and  walked  straight  up  to  the 


114  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

front  door  as  he  neared  the  house.  In  some 
mysterious  way  he  opened  the  front  entrance 
with  wonderful  celerity,  and  the  minute  he 
had  closed  the  door  a  light  appeared  in  the 
house. 

"  He  must  have  alarmed  Alex,"  I  thought. 
"  Alex  has  lighted  the  parlor  and  probably 
will  the  entire  house.  There  will  be  a  meet- 
ing of  the  men  and  a  murderous  struggle."  I 
fairly  rushed  up  the  walk  and  burst  into  the 
house. 

The  parlor  door  was  open,  and  in  the  broad 
light  I  saw  Alex  and  Jane  seated  on  the  sofa 
with  their  arms  around  each  other's  waists, 
laughing  as  though  they  had  just  heard  the 
funniest  joke  in  the  world. 

"  Do  you  know  that  a  burglar  has  just  en- 
tered this  house?  "  I  almost  shouted. 

"  Come,  you're  joking,"  answered  Alex, 
while  Jane  burst  into  another  paroxysm  of 
laughter. 

"  He  has,"  I  continued.  "  I  have  followed 
him  from  the  '  experimental  house '  to 
Smythe's,  and  from  thence  here.  I  insist  on 


A   MIDNIGHT  ALARM.  115 

your  searching  the  house.  Where  is  your 
revolver?  " 

"  I  don't  know/'  answered  Alex.  And  the 
two  laughed  again. 

I  continued  to  insist,  however,  that  the 
house  be  searched,  and  the  two  laughing 
"  Failures  "  at  last  consented. 

The  search  was  fruitless,  though  we  went 
into  every  part  of  the  house  from  cellar  to 
garret,  Alex  and  I  armed  with  golf  sticks,  and 
Jane  carrying  a  lighted  candle  behind  us.  But 
the  two  were  laughing  so  all  the  time  that 
the  burglar  had  plenty  of  opportunity  to  be 
warned  of  our  presence,  and  no  doubt  got 
away. 

"  This  is  absolutely  mysterious,"  I  ex- 
claimed. 

"  Decidedly,"  said  Alex,  with  an  amused 
expression  on  his  face. 

"  If  he  has  not  dared  to  remain  here,"  I 
continued,  "  he  has  no  doubt  returned  to  the 
Smythe  house.  I  shall  go  back  there  at  once 
and  warn  them." 

And  I  started  for  the  door. 


Il6  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  don't,"  exclaimed 
Alex,  grasping  my  arm. 

"  Why  not?  "  I  asked  in  astonishment. 

"  Because  I  am  the  burglar,"  he  replied. 

At  first  dimly,  then  plainly,  I  saw  a  light. 

Then  I  went  home  to  bed  and  pleasant 
dreams. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

I    MEET   A   RIVAL. 

On  the  next  evening  I  saw  another  light. 

We  were  all  sitting  on  our  front  piazza, 
which,  being  away  from  the  street,  faced  to- 
ward the  Smythe  household.  There  had  been 
a  dull  glow  in  one  of  the  rooms  for  an  hour  or 
so  and  we  knew  that  the  sixth  Smythe  bride 
was  enjoying  her  wood  fire.  Alex  seemed  to  be 
in  a  fever  of  anxiety,  and  yet  in  good  humor, 
as  though  he  were  expecting  something  pleas- 
ant to  occur. 

It  occurred.  I  do  not  think  it  was  pleasant 
for  the  Smythe  household,  though  they  for- 
tunately escaped  personal  injury.  Their  fire- 
place blew  up,  and  with  it  most  of  the  room. 
It  made  a  pretty  sight,  but  the  servants  man- 
aged to  extinguish  the  fire  before  much  dam- 
age was  done.  Alex  has  never  told  me,  and 
I  have  never  asked  him,  but  I  am  of  the  opin- 


Il8  AN  -EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

ion  that  the  explosion  was  occasioned  by 
powder,  and  the  powder  must  have  been  in  a 
stick  of  firewood.  Jane  informed  me  demure- 
ly, while  I  was  pondering  this  question  out 
loud,  that  the  sixth  bride  used  powder,  and 
that  possibly  she  caused  the  explosion  herself ; 
but  I  do  not  think  it  possible  that  she  could 
have  used  enough  to  cause  a  chemical  explo- 
sion. I  have  known  women,  however,  who 
used  enough  powder  to  cause  an  explosion  of 
laughter,  and  this  even  after  they  had  left  the 
room. 

At  any  rate,  I  considered  the  affront  to  my 
dignity  avenged,  and  I  know  Alex  did,  for,- 
accompanied  by  Jane,  he  went  over  in  the 
most  friendly  spirit  to  condole  with  Mr. 
Smythe — and  brought  us  back  all  the  details 
of  the  affair,  as  his  wife  did  of  the  bride's 
trousseau.  The  "  Utter  Failures "  seldom 
lost  an  opportunity. 

By  this  time  I  had  become  more  or  less  pro- 
ficient in  the  fine  art  of  wood  sawing.  After 
all,  it  is  really  more  of  a  fine  art  than  even  a 
profession.  I  sawed  a  little  in  the  morning 
and  a  little  in  the  afternoon.  At  night  a  mys- 


I   MEET  A    RIVAL.  119 

terious  team  from  a  neighboring  town  would 
stop  and  discharge  a  small  cargo  and  my 
woodpile  swelled  until  my  "  Boss  "  scratched 
his  head  in  bewilderment.  He  examined  my 
hands  daily,  and  said  that  I  beat  the  world  for 
blisters.  He  meant  lack  of  blisters.  He  even 
found  it  difficult  to  keep  me  supplied  with 
wood,  for  the  same  wagon  which  discharged 
a  cargo  of  sawed  wood  took  away  another 
cargo  of  cordwood  in  its  original,  pristine 
purity.  Finally,  he  had  to  call  a  halt  on  me, 
saying  I  had  enough  ahead  to  last  for  a  couple 
of  months. 

I  do  not  know  whether  the  ladies  suspected 
my  trick  or  not,  but  I  fancy  they  did,  as  they 
expressed  no  surprise  at  the  growth  of  the 
wood  pile.  They  did  make  an  occasional  re- 
mark about  the  matter  however.  This  was 
especially  the  case  with  the  "  Failures." 

"  Ned  works  so  hard  I  am  afraid  for  his 
health,"  Jane  would  remark,  as  I  sat  on  the 
front  piazza  with  Laura  and  my  pipe. 

"  Yes,"  Alex  would  reply,  "  and  his  hands 
are  becoming  as  tender  as  a  girl's." 

I  made  no  reply  to  this  sort  of  thing.     I 


120  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

merely  squeezed  Laura's  hand  a  trifle,  and  I 
am  sure  she  did  not  find  my  own  rough.  And 
why  should  I  have  made  my  hands  rough  with 
work?  I  expected  to  make  my  living  signing 
checks,  and  rough  hands  are  not  accustomed 
to  that  kind  of  work,  as  a  rule.  I  sawed 
enough  wood  to  fulfill  my  agreement  with 
Aunt  Alice,  and  that  was  enough.  After  that 
I  had  a  right  to  speculate  in  sawed  wood  if  I 
wanted  to,  and  what  is  speculation  but  buying 
and  selling — selling  the  other  fellow  if  you 
can,  which  you  usually  can  not. 

I  was  just  finishing  my  work  one  morning 
when  a  stylish  dogcart  stopped  in  front,  I 
should  say  in  rear,  of  the  house,  and  a  gentle- 
man alighted.  He  was  short,  slender,  and  at- 
tired in  the  height  of  style.  I  had  never  seen 
him  before,  but  he  seemed  to  know  who  I 
was,  for  he  approached  me  without  the  slight- 
est hesitation  and  handed  me  his  card.  Ac- 
cording to  the  card  he  was  Mr.  Worthington 
Hawkins,  and  I  had  no  reason  to  doubt  the 
bit  of  pasteboard. 

"  I  am  at  your  service,  Mr.  Hawkins,"  I 
said. 


I    MEET   A    RIVAL.  121 

"  I  sincerely  hope  you  are,"  he  replied,  loft- 
ily, drawing  a  cigarette-case  from  his  pocket 
and  offering  me  a  cigarette,  which  I  declined. 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you?  "  I  asked. 

"  Simply  this,"  he  answered,  lighting  a  lung 
destroyer,  "  break  your  engagement  with 
Miss  Laura  Morris  so  that  I  may  marry  her." 

Simply  that. 

There  are  things  in  this  world  at  times  that 
daze  one  by  their  abruptness.  I  know  now 
that  I  should  have  knocked  him  down,  thrown 
him  into  his  dogcart,  and  given  the  horse  a 
lash  regardless  of  consequences.  But  I  sim- 
ply stared  at  him  stupidly. 

"  Have  you  spoken  to  the  lady  on  the  sub- 
ject? "  I  asked,  after  a  few  moments  of  intel- 
lectual blankness. 

"  I  have  never  spoken  to  her  at  all,"  he 
replied. 

"  You  do  not  even  know  her?  "  I  gasped. 

"  By  sight  only,  and  not  well  by  that,"  he 
answered.  "  I  depend  on  you  for  an  introduc- 
tion." 

"  You  must  take  me  for  what  I  take  you — a 
fool,"  I  said. 


122  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"  I  take  you  for  a  reasonable  man — which  I 
am  myself,"  he  returned. 

"  Will  you  kindly  explain  yourself? "  I 
asked. 

"  Certainly,"  he  replied.  "  I  have  seen  the 
young  lady,  and  '  to  see  her  is  to  love  her,'  as 
you  very  well  know.  It  is  for  her  sake  alone 
that  I  make  the  proposition.  I  am  the  fitter 
husband  for  her." 

"  Why?  "  I  asked,  in  amazement. 

"  Because  I  am  far  the  richer  man.  You 
have  a  bare  sufficiency  to  live  on,  I  under- 
stand. I  am  thrice  a  millionaire,  and  more,  I 
can  give  her  everything  in  life  worth  having — 
a  yacht,  a  fine  residence,  horses,  dogs,  friends 
in  the  highest  society  all  over  the  world, 
travel, — in  a  word,  everything  there  is  in  life 
worth  having,  including  a  husband  of  unim- 
peachable family.  If  you  love  her  as  honestly 
as  I  think  you  do,  the  proposition  will  appear 
to  you  as  perfectly  reasonable.  Her  happi- 
ness should  be  your  first  thought  and  your 
last.  I  can  give  her  that  happiness." 

"  You  idiot !  "  I  hissed.    "  Get  out  of  here 


I   MEET  A    RIVAL.  123 

and  never  let  me  see  you  around  this  house 
again,  or  I  will  horsewhip  you  publicly." 

"  I  am  not  an  idiot,"  he  answered,  "  and  I 
am  not  a  man  to  be  trifled  with.  I  have  had 
my  own  way  all  my  life,  and  I  propose  to  have 
my  own  way  in  this  matter.  I  shall  remain 
here  in  this  village  until  you  have  had  time 
to  think  the  matter  over,  to  ponder  it  serious- 
ly. Then  I  shall  call  again.  Good  morning." 

And  with  that  he  walked  to  his  dogcart, 
climbed  in,  and  drove  off  in  the  most  digni- 
fied way  imaginable. 

I  suppose  I  should  have  laughed  over  the 
affair;  but  the  human  mind  gets  an  impres- 
sion, a  suggestion  from  everything.  He  had 
put  an  idea  into  my  head.  Was  I  really  doing 
wrong  by  Laura?  Was  she  marrying  me 
merely  from  that  greatest  of  all  causes,  prox- 
imity? 

I  tortured  myself  with  the  thought  for  an 
hour.  Then,  worked  into  apprehension  by 
my  own  imagination,  I  determined  to  go  to 
her  and  put  the  case  frankly  before  her,  tell 
her  of  the  morning's  adventure,  and  ask  her 


124  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

to  tell  me  frankly  what  she  thought  on  the 
subject. 

I  found  her  singing  at  the  piano  in  the  hap- 
piest of  moods.  She  was  alarmed  by  my  se- 
rious manner. 

"  What  has  happened?  "  she  asked. 

I  told  her  of  my  morning  caller  and  his 
proposition.  I  also  told  her  frankly  of  my 
misgivings.  And  I  asked  her  if  she  were  sure 
she  had  chosen  right? 

Her  answer  was  a  kiss. 

A  kiss  is  the  most  satisfactory  remark  a 
woman  can  make. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ALEXANDER'S  PERAMBULATOR. 

A  few  mornings  after  my  visit  from  Mr. 
Hawkins  I  happened  to  look  up  the  street, 
and  beheld  a  sight  which  was,  I  think,  the 
most  surprising  I  have  ever  seen. 

It  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  Alex 
wheeling  a  perambulator.  He  had  never  done 
such  a  thing  before;  he  had  declared  time 
and  time  again  that  he  never  would.  He 
made  fun  of  young  fathers  who  did  that  sort  of 
thing,  and  declared  it  was  fitting  for  mothers 
and  nurses  only.  He  asserted  that  a  man 
never  looked  so  ridiculous  as  when  wheeling 
a  baby  carriage. 

But  he  was  strolling  along  in  the  most  un- 
conscious way,  smoking  and  humming  a  nurs- 
ery air. 

He  stopped  in  front  of  the  "  experimental 
house  "  and  looked  at  me  gravely. 


126  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"  How  goes  it  this  morning?  "  he  asked,  as 
though  there  was  nothing  unusual  about  him. 

"  Will  you  kindly  explain  that?  "  I  asked, 
pointing  to  the  perambulator. 

"  Oh,  this?  "  he  replied,  giving  the  baby 
carriage  a  gentle  tap  and  smoothing  down 
the  lace  on  the  pillow.  "  Why  this  is  the  way 
they  wheel  babies  around,  don't  you  know." 

"  And  what  is  in  it?  "  I  continued. 

"  A  small  entity,  of  course,"  he  answered. 
"  I  am  giving  him  a  little  airing." 

And  then  he  cooed  "  there — there  "  to  a 
small  object  under  the  coverlet,  which  was 
commencing  to  make  feeble  motions.  "  Don't 
be  afraid  of  the  bad  man.  I  won't  let  him 
hurt  you." 

The  small  object  ceased  to  move. 

"  Will  you  kindly  tell  me  why  you  are  doing 
this?"  Tasked. 

"  Certainly,"  he  replied.  "  The  women 
said  I  held  the  views  I  did  concerning  the 
wheeling  of  a  perambulator  because  I  was 
afraid  to  do  so — afraid  of  the  ridicule,  you 
know.  I  determined  to  prove  to  them  that 
they  were  mistaken." 


ALEXANDER'S  PERAMBULATOR.          127 

"  Oh !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  That  explains  it. 
For  a  moment  I  feared  for  your  sanity." 

"  Oh,  don't  worry  about  such  a  little  thing 
as  that,"  he  replied.  "  I  told  them  that  not 
only  would  I  wheel  the  perambulator  but  that 
you  were  every  inch  man  enough  to  do  so 
also.  Take  a  turn  around  the  block.  Have 
one  with  me,  as  it  were." 

"  Not  much,"  said  I ;  "  that  sort  of  thing 
may  be  all  right  for  a  married  man,  but  it 
would  be  more  than  ridiculous  in  an  unmar- 
ried man." 

"  But  you  are  an  '  experimental  married 
man/  "  he  continued.  "  Come  now — prove 
yourself  to  be  the  man  I  take  you  for.  Be- 
sides, it  will  be  helping  me  out.  I  helped  you 
saw  wood,  didn't  I?  " 

"  Yes,  but  this  isn't  sawing  wood — it's 
worse." 

"  Not  at  all ;  it  is  the  easiest  thing  in  the 
world,"  he  argued.  "  You  just  push  the  car- 
riage along  gently,  lifting  the  front  wheels 
whenever  you  make  a  turn  or  go  over  a  cross- 
ing, and  occasionally  say  '  there — there,'  and 
hum  a  nursery  ballad." 


128  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"  I  might  say  '  there — there  '  all  right,"  I 
answered,  "  but  I  don't  know  a  nursery  tune 
— not  one.  In  fact,  I  don't  know  much  about 
singing  anyway." 

"  I'll  teach  you  one,"  said  Alex. 

And  then  and  there,  in  the  publicity  of  our 
now  fenceless  yard,  he  made  me  learn  "  Bye, 
Baby  Bunting." 

I  would  have  had  him  teach  me  in  a  low 
tone  of  voice,  but  he  was  bound  to  sing  loudly 
and  of  course  the  unusual  sound  began  to 
attract  the  attention  of  the  neighbors.  Some 
opened  windows  to  hear  and  see,  and  others 
strolled  out  and  leaned  on  their  gateposts  to 
watch. 

By  this  time  my  blood  was  up,  and  I 
thought  that  if  Alex  could  make  a  fool  of  him- 
self I  could  make  a  fool  of  myself  equally  well. 
Besides,  it  seemed  better  to  take  the  thing  as 
a  joke. 

"All  right,"  I  said  at  length,  with  a  con- 
siderable show  of  bravado.  "  I'll  take  a  turn 
with  your  confounded  infant." 

Alex  resigned  the  handle  of  the  carriage  to 


ALEXANDER'S  PERAMBULATOR.          129 

me  with  a  sigh.  He  might  have  added  a  croc- 
odile tear  to  the  sigh. 

"  What  shall  I  do  if  it  cries?  "  I  asked  on 
starting. 

"  It  won't  cry,"  Alex  replied.  "  I'll  guar- 
antee that." 

It  did  not  cry. 

It  was  a  very  well-behaved  entity  for  its 
size,  and  I  made  three-quarters  of  my  tour 
around  the  block  with  no  further  adventure 
than  being  well  laughed  at.  But  I  had  become 
inured  to  that  long  since,  and  did  not  care. 

It  was  when  I  turned  back  on  to  our  own 
street  that  the  trouble  came.  It  seemed  as 
though  every  one  had  come  out  to  see  the 
parade,  even  our  own  family — all  save  Laura. 
That  dear  girl  refused  to  witness  the  scene. 

Half  way  down  the  block  a  cat  stood  calmly 
on  the  paved  walk.  She  was  enjoying  a  sun 
bath.  As  I  approached  with  the  perambulator 
she  began  to  look  suspiciously  around.  As  I 
came  near  she  began  to  back  away  from  me. 

"  Funny  thing  for  a  cat  to  be  afraid  of  a 
baby  carriage,"  I  thought. 

And  then,  stranger  still  to  relate,  the  small 


130  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

being  in  the  baby  carriage  began  to  move 
around  restlessly. 

"There — there,"  I  said  to  it  gently. 
"  There— there."  And  I  began  to  hum  "  Bye, 
Baby  Bunting  "  more  soothingly  than  ever. 

It  did  not  work.  The  cat  backed  away 
more  quickly.  The  small  being  struggled 
more  violently. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  I  thought,  "  that  one  so 
young  could  be  aware  of  the  presence  of  an 
unseen  cat — and  afraid  of  it?  It  might  be 
possible,  but  I  doubt  it." 

I  was  informed  a  moment  later  of  the  true 
situation  of  affairs;  for,  before  I  could  grasp 
it,  the  small  entity  gave  a  leap  out  of  the  car- 
riage and  made  off  after  the  cat. 

The  small  entity  was  Alex's  poodle,  clad  in 
a  baby  dress  and  cap.  It  went  flying  down 
the  street  after  the  cat,  with  Alex  in  hot  pur- 
suit of  both.  He  loved  that  poodle,  and  there 
were  dog-catchers  in  town. 

In  a  second  the  merriment  was  turned  from 
my  poor  self  to  Alex. 

I  was  born  lucky. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

MR.  HAWKINS  CALLS  AGAIN. 

During  the  entire  time  Cicely  had  been 
with  us  she  had  never  availed  herself  of  her 
"  afternoon  out."  In  fact,  the  dear  little  wom- 
an (she  had  become  dear  both  to  Laura  and 
myself  by  reason  of  the  many  splendid  fea- 
tures of  her  character)  had  hardly  left  the 
house  since  her  arrival. 

Laura  spoke  to  me  about  the  matter,  and 
after  a  consultation  so  serious  that  for  the  first 
time  we  felt  as  though  we  really  were  "  keep- 
ing house,"  we  concluded  to  insist  on  her  tak- 
ing a  whole  holiday  to  make  up  for  it.  Laura 
did  the  insisting. 

But  Cicely  was  an  insister  also.  In  char- 
acter, she  was  more  terribly  in  earnest  than 
any  woman  I  have  ever  known. 

She  declined  to  take  a  holiday. 

"  Where   would    I    take    it? "    she  asked. 


132  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"Where  would  I  go?  What  would  I  do? 
Who  would  escort  me?  You  know  I  have 
not  yet  captivated  any  young  man."  She  said 
this  with  a  very  pretty  blush.  "  In  fact,  they 
seem  to  be  afraid  of  me,  and,  to  be  frank,  I  am 
afraid  of  them.  Indeed,  there  is  but  one  thing 
I  am  more  afraid  of." 

"  What  is  that?  "  asked  Laura,  anxious  to 
know. 

"  An  older  man,"  answered  Cicely. 

There  was  another  objection.  Cicely  did 
not  care  to  waste  any  of  her  money. 

"  It's  not  the  money  that  comes  to  one  or 
the  money  that  goes  from  one  that  counts," 
she  declared,  "  it's  the  money  that  stays  with 
one."  Which  is  very  fair  financial  sense,  as  I 
take  it,  from  one  whose  capital  was  but  forty 
dollars  plus  a  few  weeks'  wages. 

How  it  was  arranged  I  do  not  know,  but 
the  two  women  finally  came  to  an  agreement. 
In  lieu  of  past  holidays  Cicely  was  to  be  lady 
of  the  house  for  one  day  and  Laura  to  be  maid 
of  all  work.  The  plan  pleased  Laura  more 
than  it  did  Cicely.  Laura  had  a  chance  to 


MR.    HAWKINS   CALLS  AGAIN.  133 

learn  more  in  that  day,  she  declared,  than  she 
would  in  a  month  of  the  usual  routine. 

Cicely  fidgeted  around  in  the  morning,  tried 
to  read  the  papers,  and  could  not.  Tried  to 
read  a  novel,  and  gave  it  up  in  disgust.  Tried 
to  paint,  and  abandoned  the  idea  before  she 
had  moistened  her  brush.  And  finally  she 
strayed  out  into  the  garden  utterly  lost  for 
want  of  occupation. 

I  was  now  in  a  somewhat  unusual  position 
myself.  I  was  master  of  the  house  and  "  ex- 
perimental husband  "  to  the  servant  girl  there- 
of. I  ate  my  breakfast  and  "  kissed  the  cook  " 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life;  and  then  asked 
the  cook's  advice  as  to  what  I  should  do  dur- 
ing the  day. 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  stay  here  and  watch 
my  blunders,"  said  Laura.  "  Go  and  take  a 
long  walk." 

I  did  as  I  was  bid,  even  foregoing  my  usual 
task  of  sawing  wood  for  the  purpose.  I 
thought  that  if  servant  girls  were  entitled  to 
holidays,  so  also  were  wood  sawyers. 

I  walked  and  walked  aimlessly  and  deso- 
lately. Walking  may  be  good  for  a  man  who 


134  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

is  in  hate  (I  don't  see  why  the  expression 
should  not  be  used),  but  it  is  not  essential  to 
a  man  who  is  in  love.  The  man  who  is  in 
hate  may  be  able  to  walk  off  his  hate;  but 
the  man  who  is  in  love  only  walks  himself 
deeper  into  it.  Now,  he  would  get  deeper  into 
it  in  any  event,  so  he  merely  tires  himself 
without  result.  As  to  where  I  went  I  have 
not  the  faintest  knowledge.  I  know  that  there 
were  trees  by  the  wayside  and  birds  in  the 
trees  and  occasional  brooks  to  cross.  But  the 
trees  were  all  whispering  "  Laura  " ;  the  birds 
were  all  singing  "  Laura,"  and  the  brooks 
were  all  murmuring  "  Laura." 

I  remember  that  I  met  a  farmer  driving  a 
wagon,  and  I  thought  he  said  "  Laura,"  and 
I  came  near  firing  a  rock  at  him  for  daring  to 
utter  her  name.  I  controlled  myself,  how- 
ever, and  eventually  reached  home. 

An  unusual  sight  greeted  my  eyes  as  I  en- 
tered my  garden. 

Mr.  Hawkins  and  Cicely  were  seated  on  one 
of  the  settees,  and  unless  I  am  untutored  in 
the  art,  Mr.  Hawkins  was  making  violent  love 
to  the  author  of  the  monograph. 


MR.    HAWKINS    CALLS   AGAIN.  135 

Cicely  fled  in  some  embarrassment  at  my 
approach,  but  my  rival  faced  me  with  an  air 
of  calm  resolution. 

"  I  have  called  again,"  he  said. 

"  Really,"  I  answered,  with  fine  sarcasm. 
"  When  I  saw  you  I  concluded  you  must  be 
in  Bombay." 

"  I  am  not  in  Bombay,"  he  answered,  sup- 
pressing his  wrath.  "  I  am  in  love." 

"  You  are  also  in  my  garden,"  I  retorted, 
"  and  I  have  forbidden  you  to  enter  it." 

"  I  came  here,"  he  said,  "  to  make  you  a 
proposal." 

"  It  would  better  be  made  to  the  lady  you 
are  in  love  with,"  I  replied. 

"  This  one  is  of  another  sort,"  said  he. 
"  The  last  time  we  met  you  declined  a  reason- 
able solution  to  our  difficulty " 

"  I  am  in  no  difficulty  that  I  am  aware  of," 
I  interjected.  "  Certainly  I  share  none  with 
you." 

"  I  propose,"  he  went  on,  paying  no  atten- 
tion to  me,  "  that  we  submit  to  a  competitive 
examination  for  the  hand  of  the  lady." 

"  Rot !  "  I  exclaimed. 


136  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"  It  is  certainly  a  fair  proposition,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  We  are  both  men  of  education.  We 
will  be  examined  in  a  variety  of  subjects.  You 
shall  name  one,  then  the  lady  in  question  shall 
name  one,  then  myself,  and  so  on  in  turn  until 
we  have  chosen,  say,  a  dozen  subjects.  We  will 
have  the  teachers  in  the  local  grammar  school 
examine  us  with  the  superintendent  for  judge, 
if  any  dispute  arise.  What  do  you  say? 
Everything  now  is  conducted  on  that  princi- 
ple. Men  are  appointed  to  every  sort  of  posi- 
tion by  competitive  examination.  It  will 
sooner  or  later  be  the  proper  thing  in  the 
choosing  of  husbands.  It  is  now,  to  a  certain 
extent,  in  society,  though  money  enters  into 
the  consideration  also.  Wives  will  also  be 
chosen  in  that  way -before  long."  He  was 
waxing  enthusiastic.  "  It  will  be  a  great 
thing.  A  number  of  men  will  be  examined 
in  one  class  and  an  equal  number  of  women 
in  another.  The  man  standing  highest  in  his 
class  will,  of  course,  marry  the  girl  standing 
highest  in  her  class.  Mark  my  word,  society 
is  coming  to  it." 

"Well,   I'm   glad   it's   not   there   yet,"    I 


MR.    HAWKINS   CALLS   AGAIN.  137 

answered.  "  When  it  gets  there  I  shall  get 
out  of  society  and  go  far,  far  away." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  reject  my  propo- 
sition? "  he  asked. 

"  I  most  certainly  do,"  I  answered.  "  And 
if  I  did,  and  should  you  win,  the  lady  in  ques- 
tion would  never  consent,  herself." 

"  I  have  this  day  become  assured  that  she 
would,"  he  replied,  with  an  air  of  triumph. 

I  slapped  his  face.  He  was  too  little  to 
hurt. 

"  Apologize,"  he  growled. 

"  I  am  not  in  that  business,"  I  answered. 

"  You  shall  hear  from  me  later,"  said  he, 
and  walked  off. 

I  did  hear  from  him  later. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

AN    EXPERIMENTAL   DUEL. 

I  went  into  the  house  with  my  wrath  still 
upon  me.  I  saw  a  pretty  sight  there.  The 
two  women  were  sitting  side  by  side  with 
the  arm  of  each  around  the  other's  waist. 
Cicely,  sat  with  downcast  eyes,  blushing. 
Laura  was  looking  upon  her  in  a  motherly 
way,  and  with  a  tender  smile  upon  her  lips. 
Had  I  known  more  of  woman  nature  than  I 
did  I  would  have  understood  at  once  that  one 
was  telling  the  other  the  secret  of  her  heart. 

In  a  few  moments  Laura  came  to  me  with 
what  she  considered  tidings  of  great  joy. 

"  What  do  you  suppose?  "  she  asked. 

I  really  didn't  know  what  to  suppose  and 
told  her  so.  That  "  What  do  you  sup- 
pose? "  is  a  typical  woman's  question,  just  as 
"  Just  because  "  is  her  typical  answer.  Do 
women  ever  realize  how  tantalizing  these  two 


AN   EXPERIMENTAL   DUEL.  139 

sentences  are?  Evidently  they  do.  That  is 
why  they  use  them. 

"  Well "  she  said. 

"  Well "  I  repeated,  encouragingly. 

"  Cicely  is  in  love." 

"  Is  that  all?  "  I  asked,  in  all  innocence. 

"  Pshaw !  "  exclaimed  Laura,  poutingly. 
"  I  don't  believe  you  care  at  all." 

"  One  love  affair,"  I  answered,  "  is  all  I  can 
take  care  of  at  a  time." 

And  I  kissed  away  the  pout. 

"  Well,  I  think  it's  delightful,"  continued 
Laura. 

"  So  do  I,"  said  I.  "  It  is  rapturous,  en- 
chanting. Who  would  have  thought  it?  Who 

• 

could  have  imagined  it?  I  am  charmed, 
pleased,  fascinated  by  the  prospect.  Who  is 
the  lucky  fellow?  " 

"  She  doesn't  know,"  answered  my  own 
sweetheart,  in  all  solemnity. 

"  Doesn't  know?  "  I  exclaimed,  in  aston- 
ishment. "  Come,  now,  either  she  is  talking 
through  her  bonnet  or  you  are  joking.  Only 
this  morning  she  said  she  disliked  young  men, 


14°  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

and  disliked  old  men  worse  than  young  ones." 

"  You  goose "  began  Laura. 

"  Call  me  a  gander,  if  anything  of  the  kind." 

"  Don't  you  know  that  when  a  woman  says 
such  a  thing  as  that  she  is  ripe  for  love?  " 

"  I  didn't  know  it,  my  dear,"  I  answered. 
"  And  I  am  beginning  to  see  that  I  know  little 
or  nothing  about  women  excepting  that  I  love 
one  of  them." 

"  Well,  Cicely  is  in  love,"  continued  Laura, 
"  and  I  am  delighted." 

"  Then  I  am  also,"  I  replied.  "  And  I  shall 
write  him  to  call  and  make  himself  at  home 
immediately." 

"  But  you  don't  know  who  he  is? "  she 
demurred. 

"  Neither  does  Cicely,"  I  answered.  "  It  is 
certainly  as  reasonable  for  me  to  write  to  an 
unknown  as  for  her  to  love  one." 

"  But  you  don't  even  know  his  address." 

"  I'll  wait  till  he  pays  his  addresses,  then,  to 
her." 

We  were  interrupted  by  a  tinkling  of  the 
door  bell.  I  went  to  the  door  myself.  The 
caller  was  Mr.  Hawkins. 


AN   EXPERIMENTAL   DUEL.  141 

"  I  want  you  to  take  a  walk  with  me,"  he 
said. 

For  pure  impudence  I  have  never  met  a 
man  who  was  the  equal  of  Hawkins. 

"  I  thought  I  slapped  your  face  a  little  while 
ago,"  I  said. 

"  You  did,"  he  answered. 

'''  Well,  have  you  come  around  to  present 
the  other  cheek?  "  I  continued. 

He  was  cheekier,  however,  than  I  thought. 

"  I  have  come  around  to  fight  a  duel  with 
you,"  he  answered. 

"That  is  pleasant,"  said  I.  "I  don't  re- 
member inviting  you,  however." 

"  Oh,  I  invited  myself,"  he  replied. 

"  I  see,"  said  I.  "  A  sort  of  surprise  party. 
Did  you  bring  refreshments  with  you?  " 

"  Of  course,"  he  answered. 

And  to  my  surprise  he  produced  a  couple  of 
pretty  ivory-handled  revolvers. 

The  matter  was  becoming  serious.  More 
than  that,  I  was  losing  my  temper. 

"  Come  along,"  I  said.  We  walked  rapidly 
away.  As  we  did  so  I  thought  I  heard  two 


142  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

faint  little  cries  from  the  "  experimental 
house." 

According  to  all  the  authorities  I  have  read 
on  the  subject,  the  proper  place  to  fight  a  duel 
is  a  clearing  in  a  clump  of  woods.  We  made, 
therefore,  for  a  grove  about  a  mile  from  the 
town,  and  which  seemed  just  the  place  for  a 
diversion  of  this  character.  I  proposed  to 
make  an  experiment  in  dueling  and  had  no 
intention  of  seriously  damaging  my  queer  ri- 
val. I  did  propose  to  teach  him  a  lesson,  how- 
ever, and  I  wanted  to  have  the  affair  look  as 
much  like  a  real  duel  as  possible,  for  his  sake. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  brought  the  seconds 
with  you?  "  I  asked. 

"  Forgot  all  about  it,"  he  answered,  frank- 
ly. "  Besides,  you  should  have  brought  at 
least  one  of  them." 

"  I  know  that,"  I  confessed,  "  but  the  only 
one  I  could  have  brought  is  my  prospective 
brother-in-law,  and  he  would  turn  the  affair 
into  a  joke." 

"  That  would  never  do,"  said  Hawkins. 
"  This  matter  is  no  joke." 

"  No,  it  is  not  even  a  pun,"  I  answered. 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   DUEL.  143 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  we  can  do,"  Hawkins 
burst  out  enthusiastically. 

"  What?  "  said  I. 

"  I'll  be  your  second  and  you  be  mine." 

"  But  seconds  ought  to  be  friends,"  I  ob- 
jected. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  like  you  first  rate  and 
want  to  be  your  friend.  And  I  would  like  to 
have  you  my  friend." 

I  whistled  long  and  low  in  amused  aston- 
ishment. 

"  The  fact  is,"  he  continued,  "  you're  a  first- 
rate  fellow,  and  I  would  like  to  have  you  visit 
my  wife  and  me  as  often  as  you  please  after 
we  are  married." 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  wish  to  return  the  com- 
pliment," I  replied. 

"  Oh,  you'll  like  me  better  after  you've 
known  me  for  a  while,"  he  answered.  "  They 
all  do.  I  know  I  look  like  a  fool " 

"  Yes,"  I  assented. 

"  And  I  act  like  a  fool." 

I  agreed  again. 

"  Perhaps  I  am  a  fool." 


144  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

I  did  not  try  to  convince  him  that  he  was 
not. 

"  But  it  hasn't  been  proved  yet,"  he 
answered,  earnestly.  "  And  I  have  reason  to 
believe  that  I  am  not.  I  have  often  thought 
about  the  matter  and  have  almost  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  I  am  rather  sensible.  Other- 
wise, I  would  not  permit  myself  to  aspire  to 
this  lady's  hand." 

By  this  time  we  had  reached  the  little  grove 
and  soon  found  a  clearing  suitable  for  our  pur- 
pose. 

"  Now,"  I  asked,  "  at  what  distance  do  you 
think  you  could  hit  me?  " 

"  Really,  I  don't  know,"  he  answered.  "  I 
have  never  practiced  much,  and  then  only  at 
a  barn  door." 

"  I  am  not  a  barn  door,"  I  said. 

"  No,  but  the  question  hinges  on  your  size," 
he  answered. 

"  Well,  choose  your  distance,"  said  I. 

"  Let's  make  it  twenty  paces,"  said  he. 
"  That  sounds  all  right." 

He  measured  off  the  twenty  paces.  It  did 
look  as  though  he  might  be  able  to  hit  me  at 


AN   EXPERIMENTAL   DUEL.  145 

that  distance.  But  the  pistols  were  of  small 
caliber,  and  I  had  but  recently  suffered  from  a 
gunshot  wound  more  serious  than  any  he 
could  inflict. 

"  Now,"  I  began,  "  this  is  to  be  an  experi- 
mental duel,  at  least  so  far  as  I  am  concerned. 
You  shall  have  three  shots  at  me.  If  you  do 
not  hit  me  you  are  to  leave  the  town  and  make 
no  more  pretensions  to  the  hand  of  the  lady 
to  whom  I  am  engaged.  I  shall  not  fire." 

"  I  decline,"  he  said,  emphatically.  "  If 
I  do  not  hit  you  I  will  agree  to  your  propo- 
sition and  leave  the  town  and  the  lady.  But 
you  must  promise  to  take  at  least  the  same 
number  of  shots  at  me." 

I  saw  no  objection  to  this  agreement.  I 
could  easily  fire  so  wide  that  I  would  run  no 
danger  of  harming  him  when  it  became  nec- 
essary for  me  to  shoot,  so  the  arrangement 
was  practically  what  I  suggested. 

We  took  our  positions. 

"  You  do  the  counting,"  said  Hawkins. 
"  Say :  '  One — two — three — fire — '  and  at 
the  word  '  fire/  and  not  before,  I  will  com- 
mence." 


146  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

I  began  to  count,  but  I  got  no  further  than 
the  word  "  two." 

At  the  instant  I  said  that  there  was  a  shriek 
in  a  high  pitched  feminine  voice,  and  Cicely 
burst  through  the  woods  on  my  right  and 
flung  herself  upon  Hawkins,  crying : 

"  Don't  kill  him,  please  don't  kill  him,  Mr. 
Wilson — for  I  love  him." 

At  almost  the  same  moment  Laura  burst 
from  the  woods  on  my  left,  and  threw  herself 
into  my  arms  with  a  frightened  sob. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

AN    EXPERIMENTAL    COACHMAN. 

It  is  probable  that  there  were  never  two 
more  astonished  men  than  Hawkins  and  I 
were  at  this  unexpected  interruption.  We 
gave  up  the  duel  then  and  there.  There  was 
something  more  important  to  do — something 
far  more  delightful.  We  had  to  soothe  and 
comfort  two  frightened  women,  who  made 
us  promise  "  never  to  do  it  again." 

It  was  amazing  the  way  Hawkins  succeeded 
with  his  task,  and  still  more  amazing  the  de- 
light he  took  in  it.  And,  as  for  Laura,  he  paid 
no  attention  to  her  whatever. 

We  wandered  home  in  couples,  by  different 
roads,  and  on  the  way  Laura  explained  to 
me  that  she  had  seen  Hawkins  produce  the 
pistols  while  she  was  looking  out  of  the  kitch- 
en window,  had  guessed  what  was  to  happen, 
and  had  followed  in  haste  and  dire  alarm,  clad 
as  she  was  in  her  servant's  gown  and  apron. 


148  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

As  she  went  she  saw  Cicely  running  ahead  of 
her.  She  guessed,  also,  that  Cicely  was  bent 
on  the  same  errand.  She  saw  Cicely  enter  the 
woods  from  one  side  and  to  make  the  inter- 
ruption to  the  duel  doubly  certain  she  had 
entered  from  the  other. 

We  did  not  hurry  home. 

When  we  arrived  there  we  found  Mr.  Dick- 
son  seated  on  the  front  steps.  He  was  in  an 
attitude  of  profound  dejection.  By  his  side 
was  an  open  book — an  "  Encyclopedia  of  His- 
torical Names." 

"  Well !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  What  is  the  mat- 
ter? " 

"  I  am  baffled — beaten,"  he  replied. 

"  By  whom?  "  I  asked. 

"  By  this  young  man  who  is  upstairs  court- 
ing your  servant." 

"  Courting  our  servant?  "  I  repeated. 

"  Presumably  so,"  he  answered.  "  I  have 
just  walked  in  upon  them  unawares  and  found 
her  sitting  on  his  lap.  I  think  the  courtship 
a  successful  one,  too.  She  has  a  blazing 
diamond  ring  on  her  engagement  finger, 
which  I  have  often  noticed  on  his  hand.  I 


AN   EXPERIMENTAL   COACHMAN.  149 

have  noticed  everything  about  the  young 
man,  in  fact.  I  have  made  a  study  of  him 
and  his  actions  ever  since  he  has  been  in  town. 
Your  prospective  aunt  has  kept  me  informed 
of  his  doings.  And  he  has  baffled  me,  beaten 
me.  He  is  the  first  flaw  in  my  theory." 

"  You  can  find  no  one  in  history  then,"  I 
asked,  "  who  is  exactly  like  him?  " 

"  That  is  it,  precisely,"  answered  Mr.  Dick- 
son. 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  he  is  a  new  one  to  me 
also." 

"  His  making  love  to  a  servant  caps  the 
climax,"  said  Mr.  Dickson,  dolefully.  "  For 
the  first  time  in  my  life  I  am  beginning  to 
doubt  the  results  of  my  own  researches  and 
reasoning.  He  has  kept  me  awake  nights. 
He  has  driven  me  to  the  verge  of  nervous 
prostration.  Indeed,  there  is  not  a  subject 
connected  with  this  '  experimental  house  '  of 
yours  who  is  not  a  difficult  one.  I  am  be- 
ginning to  despair.  A  moment  ago,  for  the 
first  time  in  my  life,  I  contemplated  suicide." 

"Cheer  up,"  I  said,  soothingly.  "We'll 
soon  be  dead." 


ISO  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

Then  Laura  and  I  ascended  to  the  parlor. 

Cicely  was  sitting  with  downcast  eyes  on 
the  sofa.  Hawkins  had  apparently  just  risen 
from  it.  He  advanced  to  greet  us,  his  eyes 
shining  with  happiness. 

"  She  loves  me — she  loves  me,"  he  cried. 

"Who  loves  you?"  I  asked,  and  Laura 
took  my  arm  and  clung  to  it. 

For  answer  he  went  to  Cicely,  took  her 
by  the  hand,  and  led  her  to  us,  pointing  with 
pride  to  the  ring  he  had  put  upon  her  finger. 

"  Congratulate  us,"  he  said,  most  solemnly. 

We  did,  with  all  due  ceremony. 

"  Now  are  you  satisfied?  "  he  asked. 

I  told  him  that  I  was  never  more  satisfied 
in  my  life,  and  kissed  Laura. 

"Well,"  he  rejoined,  "I  am  glad  it  has 
come  out  so  satisfactorily.  Now  I  shall  bid 
you  good  afternoon. '  And,  by  the  way,  may 
I  see  you  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  garden?  " 

I  went  with  him.  When  once  there  and 
out  of  earshot  of  the  house  and  dejected  Mr. 
Dickson,  who  sat  staring  at  us  stupidly,  he 
turned  to  me  and  asked : 

"  How  does  it  come,  old  man,  that  you  gave 


AN   EXPERIMENTAL   COACHMAN.  151 

up  Miss  Morris  so  easily  and  satisfied  your- 
self with  the  servant  girl?  I  thought  you  had 
more  temper  in  you  than  that." 

"  It  is  you,  my  dear  boy,"  I  replied,  "  who 
has  satisfied  himself  with  the  servant  girl." 

"  What !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  That  is  it  precisely,"  I  continued.  "  You 
have  engaged  yourself  to  Miss  Cicely  Brown, 
a  very  estimable  young  lady;  the  peeress  of 
any  in  the  land — but  just  now  our  '  experi- 
mental servant  girl.' ' 

He  reeled  a  little  bit,  steadied  himself  by 
catching  hold  of  the  arbor,  looked  at  me  won- 
deringly,  suspiciously,  and  then  thoughtfully. 

"Will  you  please  explain?"  he  asked,  al- 
most plaintively.  "  How  does  it  come  that 
the  servant  is  in  the  parlor  and  the  mistress 
in  the  kitchen?  " 

I  told  him  about  the  arrangement  the  two 
women  had  made  that  morning. 

He  studied  the  matter  for  a  while. 

"  I  have  promised  to  marry  her,  and  I  shall, 
though  she  be  a  servant,"  he  exclaimed,  final- 
ly. "  And,  after  all,  I  love  her  with  all  my 
heart.  Society  will  be  shocked.  But  society 


I5«  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

exists  mainly  for  the  pleasure  of  being 
shocked.  Its  very  foundation  rests  upon 
shocks  rather  than  rocks.  Although,"  he 
added,  with  a  queer  smile,  "  one  has  to  have 
rocks  to  be  in  it.  Yes,  I  will  keep  my  promise 
— indeed,  I  would  not  break  it  for  the  world. 
I  love  her  truly  and  she  is  just  as  fine  a  wom- 
an as  a  servant  girl  as  she  would  be  if  she  were 
a  princess.  After  all,  it  is  nothing  more  than 
might  happen  under  the  competitive  system 
of  mating  in  matrimony  that  I  advocate.  A 
servant  girl,  by  lack  of  higher  education, 
might  very  well  be  assigned  to  the  son  of  a 
rich  man  under  that  system — and,  after  all, 
what  am  I  but  the  son  of  a  rich  man?  " 

Then  I  told  him  about  Cicely,  and  ex- 
plained that  she  was  not  at  all  a  servant,  but  a 
smart  little  woman  with  an  idea  in  her  head 
on  which  she  was  experimenting — that 
though  she  stoutly  maintained  that  she  was 
willing  to  be  a  servant,  he  could  easily  save 
her  from  such  a  life;  in  fact,  he  had  already. 
It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  the  information 
delighted  him.  He  shook  hands  with  me 
warmly  again,  and  started  off  down  the  street 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   COACHMAN.  153 

whistling  "  There  Is  Only  One  Girl  in  This 
World  for  Me." 

Mr.  Dickson  hastened  after  him,  encyclo- 
pedia in  hand. 

I  went  back  into  the  house  to  explain  mat- 
ters to  Laura.  She  laughed,  then  cried,  and 
then  kissed  me.  That  was  all  she  said.  Wom- 
en are  strange  creatures.  I  think  some  one 
has  said  that  before. 

It  had  been  a  day  of  incidents.  There  was  to 
be  one  more. 

After  dusk  Hawkins  appeared  again,  and 
again  took  me  out  into  the  garden.  He  was 
radiant  with  happiness. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  it  all  over  and  I  am 
simply  delighted,"  he  said.  "  What  a  splen- 
did girl  she  is,  and  what  an  idea  it  was  for  her 
to  do  this.  We  all  of  us  ought  to  have  some 
little  experience  as  servants,  in  order  to  know 
how  to  treat  them  rightly." 

"  By  Jove !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  the  first  thing 
we  know  you  yourself  will  be  hiring  out  for  a 
servant." 

"  Precisely  what  I  am  going  to  do,"  he 
answered.  "  I  have  come  here  to  ask  you  to 


154  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

take  me  on  as  coachman — take  me  on  trial,  at 
least,  please  do.  I'm  a  splendid  whip,  and 
know  all  about  horses." 

"  But,"  I  answered,  "  I  haven't  a  horse  in 
the  world,  a  carriage,  or  a  stable  for  that  mat- 
ter." 

"  I've  fixed  all  that,"  he  replied.  "  I  will 
furnish  both  horses  and  carriages  and  keep 
them  at  the  stable  where  they  are  now.  All 
you  and  your  '  experimental  wife '  will  have 
to  do  will  be  to  ride  whenever  you  want  to. 
And  I've  thought  of  a  splendid  livery.  Come 
now,  don't  refuse." 

I  really  could  not  think  of  a  reason  for  de- 
clining and  consented. 

"  May  I  begin  now,  sir,"  he  asked, 
anxiously,  touching  his  hat. 

"  Certainly,"  I  replied,  with  a  laugh. 

"  Then,  I  suppose,  sir,"  he  continued,  again 
touching  his  hat,  "  that  I  may  go  upstairs  and 
spend  the  evening  with  my  fellow  servant?  " 

I  slapped  him  on  the  back  and  led  him  up- 
stairs. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

AN   EXPERIMENTAL  STORM. 

Matters  were  now  running  as  smoothly  in 
the  "  experimental  house  "  as  they  did  in  the 
Garden  of  Eden  before  that  unfortunate  au- 
tumn. 

Cicely  had  learned  to  do  her  work  so  well 
that  we  raised  her  wages  a  dollar  a  week. 
Whether  it  was  this  fact  that  spurred  her  to 
extra  endeavor,  or  the  little  detail  that  as  soon 
as  our  "  experiment  "  was  finished  she  was  to 
marry  a  man  several  times  a  millionaire,  I  do 
not  know ;  but,  certainly,  she  was  a  model  ser- 
vant. She  was  up  bright  and  early  every 
morning  and  had  her  work  finished  every 
evening  exactly  half  an  hour  after  supper,  and 
her  kitchen  was  the  tidiest  I  have  ever  seen. 
In  the  evening  she  sat  with  her  affianced  in 
the  kitchen  enjoying  the  only  reward  life  gives 
us  for  its  pain  and  worry  and  work — love. 


156  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

And  what  a  misfortune  it  is  that  our  reward 
comes  so  often  before  we  have  earned  it  by 
pain  and  worry  and  work!  Perhaps  that  is 
the  reason  so  many  of  us  fail  to  appreciate  it 
to  its  full  worth.  If  we  could  find  love  at  the 
end  of  life  only,  there  would  be  fewer  divorces. 
But,  come  to  think  of  it,  there  would  probably 
be  fewer  marriages  also.  Perhaps  the  uni- 
verse is  run  on  the  right  principle  after  all. 

As  for  our  coachman  he  was  a  jewel.  After 
I  had  sawed  my  allowance  of  wood  in  the 
morning,  he  would  appear  and  touch  his  hat. 
And  then  I  would  say : 

"  Worthington,  I  think  we  will  take  a 
drive." 

It  sounded  rather  strange  at  first  to  call  a 
coachman  "  Worthington."  "  James  "  or 
"  John  "  or  "  Peter  "  would  have  sounded 
much  fitter,  but  Hawkins  insisted  on  being 
called  by  his  first  name,  after  the  manner  of 
his  "  experimental  kind." 

After  I  had  said  this,  Worthington  would 
touch  his  hat,  and  go  at  once  after  his  best 
pair  and  Victoria.  Then  Laura  and  I  would 
drive  forth  in  a  manner  no  one  ever  did  be- 


AN   EXPERIMENTAL  STORM.  157 

fore,  with  a  millionaire  coachman  on  the  box. 

Aunt  Alice  was  all  smiles  and  delight.  Her 
experiment  was  working  admirably.  She 
purred  around  after  the  satisfied  manner  of  an 
old  grandmother  cat,  but  ceased  to  make 
either  criticisms  or  suggestions.  She  even 
went  so  far  as  to  say  to  me  confidentially  that 
if  things  went  on  as  they  were  going  I  might 
hope  to  win  her  consent  to  my  marriage  with 
Laura. 

Even  Alex  and  Jane  became  more  com- 
posed as  time  wore  on,  and  Aunt  Alice  began 
to  have  hopes  of  their  ultimate  reformation. 
Poor  Mr.  Dickson  was  the  only  member  of 
what  I  may  call  the  "  experimental  family  " 
who  was  not  satisfied.  Every  day  he  lost  more 
faith  in  his  pet  theory,  and  every  day  made 
more  frantic  efforts  to  maintain  it.  Like  many 
another  man  with  a  theory,  he  became  rattled, 
and  the  number  of  characters  he  fitted  to  us 
was  surprising.  I  firmly  believe  he  did  not 
stop  until  he  had  exhausted  the  encyclopedia. 
He  became  nervous  and  touchy ;  and  none  of 
us  dared  to  speak  to  him  on  the  subject  save 
Aunt  Alice  herself.  She  laid  criticism  upon 


158  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

criticism  and  taunt  upon  taunt  mercilessly  on 
the  poor  man. 

"  I'll  make  a  man  of  you  yet,"  she  would 
say  to  him. 

"  You'll  have  to  hurry  up,"  he  would  reply, 
dejectedly. 

Matters  were  going  so  well,  indeed,  that  it 
was  perfectly  natural  we  should  expect  a 
storm — and  the  storm  came. 

Alex  arranged  the  storm. 

It  was  entirely  for  the  benefit  of  Aunt 
Alice,  and  took  place,  as  per  small  bills,  pre- 
cisely on  time  at  three  o'clock  one  afternoon. 
After  many  experiments  he  had  managed  to 
get  a  phonograph  filled  with  "  rain  on  the 
roof."  After  many  more  he  succeeded  in  get- 
ting another  filled  with  "  moaning  of  the 
wind."  The  "  rain  on  the  roof "  was  much 
better  than  the  "  moaning  of  the  wind,"  as  the 
latter  had  a  wheezy  sound  that  was  hardly  nat- 
ural. There  was  not  much  wind  blowing  at 
that  time  of  year,  and  he  had  to  make  a  com- 
bination of  the  sounds  of  an  electric  fan,  sev- 
eral spinning  tops,  a  dog  listening  to  sweet 
music  and  accompanying  the  same,  and  a  va- 


AN   EXPERIMENTAL   STORM.  159 

riety  actor  who  could  imitate  everything  ex- 
cept an  actor. 

We  waited  for  a  day  when  Aunt  Alice  had 
the  blues.  The  day  did  not  come  soon  enough, 
so  we  had  to  manufacture  even  her  blues. 
With  a  slight,  but  pardonable  deception,  we 
told  her  that  Mr.  Dickson  had  at  last  suc- 
ceeded in  proving  his  theory. 

Then  she  had  the  blues  all  right,  and 
wanted  to  go  right  into  the  attic  and  read 
old  faded  letters.  Alex  at  once  suggested 
the  storm,  and  she  gladly  assented.  I  will  not 
say  who  told  the  pardonable  fib  about  Mr. 
Dickson. 

The  storm  was  quite  realistic. 

We  let  Aunt  Alice  read  letters  for  quite  half 
an  hour  and  then  we  all  went  downstairs  and 
darkened  the  attic.  Laura  ran  the  "  rain-on- 
the-roof  "  machine,  and  Jane  the  "  moaning 
of  the  wind."  I  attended  to  the  stage  thun- 
der, doing  very  well  indeed,  they  said,  with  a 
long  sheet  of  tin.  Alex,  of  course,  ran  the 
lightning.  He  always  preferred  fireworks  to 
anything  else  in  the  world,  except  his  wife. 
Mr.  Dickson  sat  on  the  front  steps  and 


l6o  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

watched  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  "  an  idiot- 
ic proceeding,  compared  to  which  his  theory 
was  sanity  itself."  Outside,  Worthington 
smashed  branches  of  trees  against  the  attic 
windows  when  the  wind  blew,  and  the  author 
of  the  monograph  sprinkled  the  windows 
with  water  from  a  sprinkling  pot. 

It  was  indeed  realistic.  Too  realistic.  I 
do  not  think  that  Alex  intended  to  have  the 
lightning  strike  the  "  experimental  house," 
but  it  did  just  the  same.  In  other  words,  his 
chemicals  exploded,  and  the  storm  abated  in- 
stantly to  give  place  to  an  actual  panic.  For- 
tunately, every  one  was  in  the  attic  or  out- 
side, and  Mr.  Dickson  had  the  presence  of 
mind  to  throw  open  the  front  door,  by  which 
he  was  sitting.  With  some  difficulty  we  made 
our  way  through  the  suffocating  smoke,  Alex 
leading  his  wife,  Mr.  Dickson  Aunt  Alice,  and 
I  Laura. 

Worthington,  in  full  livery,  dashed  down 
to  the  town  to  give  the  alarm,  and  the  re- 
mainder of  us,  augmented  by  all  of  the  Mor- 
ris household  servants,  the  neighbors,  and 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   STORM.  161 

eventually  most  of  the  town,  tried  to  put  out 
the  fire. 

It  was  the  usual  village  fire.  The  engine 
arrived  too  late.  Water  was  brought  by  hands 
so  willing,  and  in  such  frantic  haste,  that 
most  of  it  was  spilled  before  it  arrived  at  the 
point  where  it  could  be  useful. 

There  were  a  hundred  ladders  in  the  vicin- 
ity, but  not  one  could  be  found.  In  fact,  no 
one  could  be  found  with  sense  enough  to  rec- 
ognize a  ladder  when  he  saw  one.  When  one 
was  eventually  obtained  it  was  placed  in  a 
position  where  it  had  to  be  immediately  aban- 
doned, and  where  it  burned  up  with  the  rest  of 
the  "  experimental  house." 

The  "  experimental  house "  began  as  a 
joke.  It  was  not  a  reality  until  it  had  ascended 
in  smoke  or  dropped  in  ashes.  Until  then 
none  of  us  knew  how  much  we  loved  it,  how 
much  we  enjoyed  it,  how  happy  we  had  been 
in  it. 

"  A  part  of  our  life  is  gone,"  sobbed  Laura, 
weeping  on  my  breast. 

"  It  is  always  slipping  away,  day  by  day,"  I 
said,  trying  to  console  her. 


1 62  AN    EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

But  at  this  she  only  sobbed  afresh. 

"Oh,  why  should  it  be  so— why  should  it 
be  so?  "  she  broke  out. 

And  who  can  tell?  The  old  things,  the 
dear  things  slip  away  into  the  past.  Friends 
die.  The  minutes,  hours,  and  days  burn  up,  a 
constant  conflagration.  Why  can  not  the 
whole  universe  stop  some  time  when  we  are 
happy  and  let  us  remain  so  forever? 

Why? 

And  why  grieve  about  it  all? 

Cheer  up — we'll  soon  be  dead. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

AN   EXPERIMENTAL   SHADOW. 

The  burning  of  the  "  experimental  house  " 
cast  a  gloom  over  all  of  us.  Fortunately,  there 
was  something  to  relieve  the  gloom,  that  one 
thing  in  the  world  which  can  lighten  the 
darkest  path  we  have  to  tread — love.  For 
Alex  there  was  Jane.  For  Cicely,  who  had 
gone  to  live  temporarily  with  the  Morris  fam- 
ily, and  who  was  no  longer  a  domestic,  there 
was  Hawkins.  For  myself,  there  was  Laura. 
And  for  Aunt  Alice,  there  was  Mr.  Dickson, 
if  we  could  only  wean  him  from  his  theory, 
and  unite  the  strands  of  old-time  love,  as  Alex 
wished — and  as  we  all  wished  for  that  matter. 

Fate  conspired  with  us  as  near  as  we  could 
judge.  Mr.  Dickson  called  often,  but  he 
ceased  to  talk  of  his  hobby.  We  were  de- 
lighted, and  Aunt  Alice  was  even  more  so. 
Sometimes  when  we  three  couples  of  lovers 


164  AN    EXPERIMENTAL   WOOING. 

were  not  casting  sheep's  eyes  and  whispering 
the  nonsense  that  is  the  most  delightful 
thing  in  life,  we  observed  that  he  would  look 
longingly  at  Aunt  Alice,  and  make  similar 
sheep's  eyes  at  her.  But  the  difficulty  was  to 
get  him  to  whisper  the  "  tender  nothings,"  as 
some  one  has  called  them. 

Even  Aunt  Alice  noticed  the  change. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  we  heard  her  say  to  her- 
self one  evening  when  Mr.  Dickson  had  made 
a  particularly  long  farewell  after  his  daily  vis- 
it :  "  Is  it  possible  that  the  impossible  is  to 
happen?  " 

And  then  she  went  to  her  room  and  was 
seen  no  more  for  that  day. 

And  on  the  next  she  appeared  in  a  new 
gown,  with  her  hair  adjusted  in  the  latest 
style,  and  with  a  bunch  of  red  love  roses 
pinned  on  her  corsage.  Her  step  was  as  elas- 
tic as  a  young  girl's,  and  a  new  light  burned 
in  her  eyes.  She  looked  twenty  years  young- 
er. 

We  lovers  smiled  at  each  other.  We  knew 
— we  understood. 

And  we  smiled  again  when  Mr.  Dickson 


AN   EXPERIMENTAL  SHADOW.  165 

appeared  later  in  the  day.  He,  too,  had  thrown 
off  the  cobwebs  and  dust  of  years.  The  bar- 
ber, a  fashionable  suit  of  clothes,  and  love 
had  made  a  new  man  of  him. 

But  over  all  was  the  melancholy  gloom 
caused  by  the  loss  of  our  house.  All  that 
remained  of  it  was  a  mass  of  ashes,  some 
charred  timbers  and  bent  and  twisted  iron, 
and  standing  upright  in  the  center  the  strings 
of  the  piano.  The  garden  had  been  ruined 
by  the  crowd  that  tramped  around  in  it,  al- 
though here  and  there  a  rose  tried  to  raise  its 
head  and  drink  the  sunlight,  or  a  surviving 
nasturtium  stared  at  us  with  its  yellow  eye, 
as  though  in  wonder  at  the  change. 

The  walks  were  still  there.  Even  Time  finds 
it  difficult  to  erase  the  path  that  man  has  trod. 
The  Ages  bury  the  traces  of  his  brief  visit 
under  tons  of  rock  or  under  hundreds  of  feet 
of  sand — and  man  finds  them  again  and 
knows  he  has  been  there  before.  Man  is  an 
Indian  on  the  trail — -ever  in  pursuit  of  his  kind 
in  one  way  or  another. 

Reminiscence  walks  hand  in  hand  with 
Melancholy. 


1 66  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  first  meal?  "  Laura 
would  ask,  looking  at  the  broken  remnant  of 
the  range. 

"  Yes,"  I  would  answer,  "  and  the  dinner 
party,  and  the  sawing  of  the  wood  for  Mr. 
Smythe." 

I  picked  up  a  misshapen  mass  of  tin. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  that  was?  "  I  asked 
Laura. 

"  Can't  you  guess? "  she  asked,  with  a 
smile. 

I  confessed  that  I  could  not. 

"  Why,  that  is  the  basin  Cicely  dropped  out 
of  the  window  to  give  you  a  chance  to  rest 
that  first  day  you  sawed  wood,"  she  said. 

I  took  the  misshapen  mass  to  my  room  and 
have  it  still. 

We  all  took  relics  from  the  ruins.  Alex  got 
a  part  of  one  of  his  phonographs.  Cicely 
raked  out  the  remains  of  her  tin  paint-box. 
Laura  found  a  spoon  she  had  used  when  cook- 
ing on  the  day  she  played  servant.  And  Aunt 
Alice,  after  many  days  of  diligent  search, 
found  a  cobweb  which  she  declared  she  was 
going  to  bear  away  intact ;  but  we  convinced 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   SHADOW.  167 

her  that  the  cobweb  was  of  a  later  growth 
than  those  in  her  attic. 

I  now  discharged  "  Experimental  Trades 
Union  No.  i  of  Wheatfield  "  in  a  body,  and 
they  soon  had  to  go  to  work  again.  I  also 
discharged  my  "  Boss,"  and  things  began  to 
take  their  normal  aspect  all  around, — all  save 
the  ruins  of  the  "  experimental  house,"  which 
we  none  of  us  wished  disturbed. 

In  the  meantime  I  was  beginning  to  be 
impatient  at  the  delay  Aunt  Alice  was  mak- 
ing in  announcing  her  judgment  on  the  "  Ex- 
perimental Wooing."  I  felt  confident  of  the 
result,  but  I  had  a  lover's  anxiety  to  bind  the 
bargain.  I  talked  the  matter  over  with  Laura 
and  we  decided  to  go  to  her  and  ask  an  imme- 
diate decision. 

We  waited  for  an  opportunity  when  Mr. 
Dickson  was  not  around — and  he  had  become 
most  assiduous  in  his  attentions  of  late.  When 
the  opportunity  came  I  walked  boldly  into  her 
presence  with  Laura  on  my  arm. 

"  I  have  come  to  ask  for  your  consent  to 
our  marriage,  again,"  I  said.  "  We  have  made 


1 68  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

the  experiment  you  desired.  Have  we  done 
well?" 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  after  a  little  pause. 
'  You  have  done  well,  much  better  than  I  ex- 
pected." 

"  Then  we  may  announce  the  engagement 
— or  rather  you  will  for  us?  "  I  continued. 

"  Not  yet,"  she  replied,  and  my  spirits  sank 
to  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  some  fathoms 
deeper. 

"  Why?  "  I  asked,  falteringly. 

"  I  have  one  more  experiment  for  you  to 
make — one  more  ordeal  for  you  to  suffer." 

"  What  is  it?  "  Laura  and  I  asked  together. 

"  I  want  you  both  to  try  an  '  experimental 
bereavement.' ' 

We  sat  down  on  the  sofa  in  dismay. 

"  What  in  the  world  can  you  mean?  "  I 
asked. 

"  Your  experiment,"  answered  Aunt  Alice, 
"  so  far  has  been  one  of  sunlight.  You  have 
managed  to  stand  prosperity  very  well.  But 
how  do  I  know  how  you  will  stand  the  shad- 
ows of  life — for  life  is  composed  of  shadows  as 
well  as  sunlight,  gray  days  as  well  as  gold." 


AN    EXPERIMENTAL   SHADOW.  169 

"  But  how  can  you  make  a  shadow — that  is, 
an  '  experimental  shadow  '?  "  I  asked. 

'''  Very  simply,"  she  answered.  "  I  am  go- 
ing to  separate  you  for  three  months." 

I  protested  then  loud  and  long,  while  the 
tears  ran  down  Laura's  cheeks.  But  Aunt 
Alice  was  firm. 

"  In  your  future  life  together  you  will  have 
to  be  separated  often,"  she  said.  "  Some  day 
one  or  the  other  of  you  will  die — and  one  will 
have  to  remain  in  the  world  alone.  Will  you 
be  able  to  stand  it  with  the  stoicism  both  men 
and  women  have  to  assume  under  misfortune? 
Then  there  is  another  point.  If  you  love  each 
other  truly  this  separation  will  but  weld  the 
bonds  that  hold  you  together  all  the  more 
firmly.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  if  there  is  a 
flaw  in  the  bonds  it  will  be  discovered  by  one 
or  the  other  of  you  in  that  time." 

We  pleaded. 

We  argued. 

We  almost  went  so  far  as  to  decline  to  sub- 
mit to  this  fresh  experiment. 

But  Aunt  Alice  was  inexorable.  She  wrote 
to  some  relatives  in  Philadelphia  and  made 


17°  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

arrangements  for  Laura  to  stay  there,  or 
rather  with  them,  during  the  remainder  of  the 
summer  and  part  of  the  fall.  She  was  to  be 
taken  into  society  as  much  as  possible  both 
there  and  at  such  seaside  resorts  as  they  might 
visit.  In  other  words,  she  was  to  be  thrown 
into  the  society  of  as  many  men  of  proper 
standing  in  life  as  possible,  in  order  that  she 
might  compare  them  to  me — though  this  was 
barely  hinted,  and  hinted  only  to  me.  Laura 
was  to  be  an  unconscious  victim  of  the 
scheme. 

Aunt  Alice  was  to  remain  at  home  and  in- 
vite young  ladies  to  visit  her — and  she  knew 
many  of  them — in  order  that  I  might  have  a 
similar  test.  In  fact,  the  Morris  household 
was  to  be  the  scene  of  a  social  activity  it  had 
not  witnessed  since  Aunt  Alice  herself  was  a 
young  girl.  To  Alex  and  Jane  the  arrange- 
ments for  all  this  were  assigned,  and  they  ac- 
cepted the  duty  with  their  usual  delight.  It 
was  great  sport  for  them.  But  I  would  not 
listen  to  the  plans  they  made.  I  had  no  inter- 
est in  them. 

The  day  came  only  too  soon  when  Laura 


AN   EXPERIMENTAL  SHADOW.  171 

boarded  the  train  for  New  York  on  her  way 
to  Philadelphia.    And  as  the  train  which  bore 
her  away  drew  out  from  our  little  station  the 
"  experimental  shadow  "  fell. 
And  it  was  as  black  as  despair. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE   END   OF   THE    EXPERIMENTS. 

The  first  day  of  our  separation  was  as  un- 
happy a  day  for  me  as  could  be  imagined,  and 
the  rest  were  as  bad.  I  did  not  myself  know 
how  much  I  would  miss  the  dear  little  woman 
who  had  shared  my  difficulties  since  the  morn- 
ing I  was  shot  on  her  balcony. 

During  the  daytime  I  walked  up  and  down 
the  path  she  and  I  had  planned  and  laid  out 
together  in  our  garden,  with  the  black  ruins 
of  the  "  experimental  house  "  for  a  silent  com- 
panion. During  the  night  I  walked  the  floor 
most  of  the  time.  Three  months  is  a  short 
space  of  time,  or  a  long  one,  according  to  cir- 
cumstances. So  is  a  day  or  an  hour  or  a  min- 
ute. 

Alex  and  Jane  did  their  best  to  cheer  me 
up,  and  they  did  so  without  any  joking.  The 
plan  of  inviting  young  ladies  to  the  Morris 


THE    END    OF   THE    EXPERIMENTS.  173 

household  to  console  me  was  abandoned, 
after  I  had  declared  that  I  would  not  visit  the 
house  while  they  were  there. 

Aunt  Alice  watched  me  with  much  interest, 
but  gave  me  no  help.  On  the  contrary,  she 
talked  to  me  often  of  death,  long  separations, 
and  that  sort  of  thing.  So  constantly  did  she 
keep  this  up  that  those  subjects  took  form  in 
my  own  brain,  and  I  almost  fancied  at  times 
that  Laura  was  dead  and  I  a  widower.  I  would 
get  into  a  mood  of  this  kind,  and  it  would  re- 
main with  me  until  I  imagined  almost  every- 
thing pertaining  to  the  subject  as  actually 
occurring.  My  thoughts  even  began  to  run 
on  the  supernatural,  and  I  wondered,  should 
Laura  die,  if  she  would  ever  appear  to  me  in 
spirit  form.  It  is  a  compact  often  made  be- 
tween husband  and  wife. 

The  separation  had  lasted  almost  three 
weeks,  when  one  of  these  moods  came  to  me 
as  I  paced  the  floor  in  my  room  in  the  early 
evening.  I  tried  to  throw  it  off,  but  could 
not.  Eventually  I  went  out  into  the  street 
and  wandered  about  aimlessly  until  I  stood 
(having  wandered  there  by  a  sort  of  natural 


174  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

attraction)  in  front  of  the  ruins  of  the  "  experi- 
mental house."  It  was  a  night  of  dim  moon- 
light— just  such  a  night  as  the  one  on  which 
I  followed  Alex  with  his  stick  of  wood. 

I  turned  into  the  long  path  that  ran 
through  the  ruined  garden  and  began  to  pace 
up  and  down  with  my  hands  .behind  my  back 
and  my  eyes  bent  on  the  gravel  before  me. 

"  If  she  should  die,"  I  thought  to  myself, 
"  I  would  rebuild  the  '  experimental  house  ' 
and  live  here  the  rest  of  my  life.  I  would  fill 
the  garden  with  the  flowers  she  loved  and 
here  I  would  walk  and  wait  for  her  to  come 
to  me  in  spirit  form — as  I  know  she  would." 

The  up-train  shrieked  in  the  distance  and 
rumbled  away  to  the  north.  A  carriage  rolled 
up  the  street  and  back  again.  A  mourning 
dove  uttered  its  sorrowful  cry  in  a  nearby 
tree.  These  were  the  only  sounds  that  dis- 
turbed me.  There  was  not  a  sound  from 
the  Morris  residence,  for  Aunt  Alice  was 
spending  the  evening  with  the  "  Utter  Fail- 
ures." Not  even  a  light  appeared  in  the 
house.  I  was  quite  alone. 

After  some  time,  as  I  turned  at  the  end  of 


THE    END    OF   THE   EXPERIMENTS.  175 

the  walk  furthest  from  the  street,  I  happened 
to  raise  my  eyes.  Then  I  stopped  in  wonder 
and  my  heart  for  a  moment  stood  still.  The 
walk  was  a  long  one,  and  the  light  of  the  moon 
quite  dim,  but  I  saw,  faintly,  a  white  figure,  at 
the  end  of  the  walk.  It  was  advancing  slow- 
ly. I  did  not  believe  in  ghosts,  but  my 
thoughts  had  been  on  the  supernatural,  and 
I  will  confess  that,  for  a  moment,  I  was  fright- 
ened. 

Summoning  up  my  resolution  and  courage 
I  advanced  toward  the  white  figure.  Gradual- 
ly it  assumed  the  form  of  Laura,  and  became 
more  plainly  outlined  and  more  opaquely 
white.  My  heart  leaped  into  my  throat  and  I 
stopped  in  actual  fear — not  of  the  figure  but 
of  the  thought  that  occurred  to  me.  Could 
it  be  possible  that  Laura  had  died  and  that 
she  had  really  come  back  to  me  in  spirit  form? 

I  determined  to  know  at  any  rate,  and  again 
walked  toward  the  figure.  The  nearer  I  ap- 
proached, more  and  more  the  figure  resem- 
bled Laura.  At  last  I  could  see  her  hair,  then 
the  rose  on  her  bosom,  then  her  face  and  her 
eyes  filled  with  the  light  of  love. 


176  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

Spirit  or  not  it  was  Laura,  and  I  was  un- 
afraid. I  opened  my  arms  and  walked  rapidly 
toward  her.  She  gave  a  little  shriek,  as  though 
she  had  but  just  seen  me,  then  she  too  opened 
her  arms,  dashed  toward  me — and  a  moment 
later  I  was  holding  the  real  Laura  hard  to  my 
heart. 

"  I  couldn't  stand  it,"  she  cried,  sobbing 
on  my  shoulder.  "  I  really  couldn't.  I  tried 
hard,  but  I  couldn't  stay  away  another  min- 
ute. So  I  ran  away,  actually — without  even 
saying  good-by.  It  was  awfully  rude,  I  know, 
but  if  I  had  stood  upon  ceremony,  they  would 
have  tried  to  dissuade  me.  So  I  just  came 
away  without  saying  a  word,  and  did  not  let 
them  know  until  I  got  here  on  the  train  a  lit- 
tle while  ago.  Then  I  telegraphed  them  from 
the  station.  After  that  I  took  a  carriage  and 
drove  right  home.  The  house  was  open,  but 
I  did  not  see  a  soul  around.  My  trunks  will 
not  be  up  till  morning,  so  I  changed  from  my 
traveling  gown  to  this,  and  came  out  to  walk 
here  in  the  moonlight.  I  did  not  hope  to 
find  you  here — but  I  did  so  want  to  see  you. 


THE   END    OF   THE   EXPERIMENTS.  177 

If  Aunt  Alice  had  been  home  I  should  have 
sent  for  you,  late  as  it  is." 

It  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  what  I  said  to 
her,  or  the  further  remarks  she  made  to  me. 
They  may  be  considered  understood.  How- 
ever, at  the  end  of  half  an  hour  or  so  we 
turned  our  steps  toward  the  house.  As  we 
did  so  lights  began  to  appear  in  it,  and  a 
carriage  drove  in.  It  was,  of  course,  Aunt 
Alice  returning  from  her  call  on  the  "  Fail- 
ures." 

"  What  shall  we  say  to  her?  "  I  asked. 

"  Tell  her  the  exact  truth,  of  course," 
answered  Laura. 

The  front  door  of  the  house  was  open,  and 
in  the  hallway  stood  Aunt  Alice  talking  to 
Mr.  Dickson,  who  had  evidently  escorted  her 
home.  At  sight  of  us  they  both  made  excla- 
mations of  astonishment.  As  for  myself,  I 
felt  as  though  I  were  bearding  a  lioness  in  her 
den ;  but  I  was  fully  prepared  to  declare  that 
neither  Laura  nor  myself  would  submit  fur- 
ther to  such  an  outrageous  test  as  this  last 
one,  and  that  we  were  prepared  to  get  married 


178  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

without  the  consent  of  Aunt  Alice  if  we  could 
not  obtain  it  without  such  a  separation. 

I  do  not  know  exactly  what  Laura  intended 
to  say — at  any  rate,  in  what  words  she  in- 
tended to  say  it.  She  did  not  have  the  chance 
to  speak. 

"  You  dear  girl !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Alice, 
the  moment  she  saw  Laura,  at  the  same  time 
embracing  her  and  kissing  her.  "  So  you  have 
come  back  without  permission?  I  knew  you 
would — I  knew  you  would  if  you  really  loved 
him.  Oh,  I  am  so  delighted !  " 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say,  Alice,"  said  Mr. 
Dickson,  in  astonishment,  "  that  you  are  de- 
lighted because  she  broke  the  conditions  of 
this  last  experiment?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  answered  Aunt  Alice. 
"  If  she  had  kept  them  I  would  have  known 
that  she  did  not  love  Ned ;  at  least,  not  truly 
enough  to  live  happily  with  him  for  a  lifetime. 
This  is  just  what  I  expected  and  hoped  for. 
You  lucky  man,"  she  continued,  turning  to 
me,  "  take  her  and  be  happy.  There  is  noth- 
ing in  the  world  to  prevent." 

I  was  more  astonished  than  Mr.  Dickson, 


THE  END   OF  THE   EXPERIMENTS.  179 

but  I  lost  no  time  in  "  taking  her  "  right  into 
my  arms  before  both  of  them. 

Mr.  Dickson  took  off  his  glasses  and 
rubbed  them  with  his  silk  handkerchief  in  a 
mechanical  sort  of  way,  as  though  he  were 
pondering  a  subject  of  great  weight. 

"  Alice,"  he  said  at  length,  "  I  give  it  up. 
You  are  not  Queen  Elizabeth.  You  are  not 
Catherine  of  Russia.  You  are  no  one  but  your- 
self. There  was  never  another  woman  like 
you  and  never  will  be.  You  have  torn  down 
the  last  prop  to  a  theory  I  have  tried  to  build 
up  and  prove  during  the  best  years  of  my 
life." 

"  Do  you  mean  it,  Will? "  asked  Aunt 
Alice. 

"  I  do,  Alice,"  Mr.  Dickson  replied,  looking 
her  in  the  eyes,  almost  wistfully. 

"  Then,"  continued  Aunt  Alice,  "  perhaps 
the  best  years  of  your  life  are  yet  to  come." 
And  she  held  out  her  hand  to  him.  Singularly 
enough  it  was  her  left  hand. 

Mr.  Dickson  fumbled  in  the  pocket  of  his 
coat,  and  presently  drew  forth  a  little  box  cov- 
ered with  faded  velvet.  He  opened  the  box 


l8o  AN   EXPERIMENTAL  WOOING. 

by  pressing  on  a  spring,  and  took  from  it  a 
handsome  diamond  ring,  which  he  slipped  on 
the  third  finger  of  the  hand  Aunt  Alice  held 
out  toward  him.  It  seemed  to  fit  as  though 
it  were  made  for  that  particular  finger. 

"  You  have  kept  it  all  these  years,  Will?  " 
asked  Aunt  Alice. 

"  I  have  carried  it  with  me  all  these  years, 
Alice,"  answered  Mr.  Dickson. 

And  then  Laura  and  I  turned  away  into  the 
parlor. 

There  was  a  triple  wedding  at  the  Morris 
household  that  autumn.  And  the  "  Utter 
Failures  "  are  not  the  only  happily  married 
people  in  this  world,  as  I  happen  to  know. 

THE   END. 


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